


How It All Began

by Sayuri_no_Hanataba



Category: Pandora Hearts
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Gen, PH Month, PH Month: First Week, PH Pilot Chapter, Pandora Hearts Month, Pandora Hearts Month: First Week, Pandora Hearts Pilot Chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-23 20:28:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 43,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11997372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sayuri_no_Hanataba/pseuds/Sayuri_no_Hanataba
Summary: "Gilbert sighed in frustration. It was one job. One little job. Kill the kid and walk away. And yet here he was, facing all these complications that weren't included in his job description." A story on how Oz and Gil met; based on the One-Shot version of PH! Rated Teen and Up for language and blood.





	1. Prologue : The Man In Black

**Author's Note:**

> As I've mentioned in the summary, this story is based on the pilot chapter of Pandora Hearts released in Volume 8 (also known as “Pandora Hearts One-Shot”). It’s my take on how Gil and Oz met and eventually teamed up. I highly suggest you read the One-Shot version first before reading this, because there are a few differences between it and the original PH (for example, a 'Chain' is called an 'Abyss' in the One-Shot and 'Pandora' is the heart of the 'Abyss'). So, it could be slightly confusing if you don't!

"So, who is it this time?" asked a dark voice.

A photograph was slid across the table. The slim, gloved fingers retracted to reveal a picture of a boy with long, blonde hair tied back in a loose braid and bright, emerald green eyes. The boy was smiling as he played with something not included in the picture, probably a pet. Judging by the expanse of green grass around him, he appeared to be in a garden. It was obvious that the photo was taken in secret, since the boy was staring down at whatever he was playing with rather than at the camera, and the edges of the photo were obscured by what seemed to be leaves from a bush.

The owner of the voice, who was a tall man dressed in all-black, raised an eyebrow as his golden eyes scanned the photograph, momentarily wondering if this was some kind of mistake. When he saw no one else in the picture, he finally voiced his doubts.

"A _boy_?" he asked while raising an eyebrow; the incredulousness was evident in his voice. It was a rare emotion for someone like him. In fact, any emotion was rare for him.

People who killed on a regular basis were not very familiar with emotions.

He was currently in a small office adjoined to a warehouse in some obscure location of the city. Despite its size, it was furnished with antique, expensive furniture and fixtures such as polished rosewood tables, leather tall-back chairs and porcelain tea sets jammed into glass-door cabinets.

How typical of rich nobles; they brought their comfort and luxury with them no matter where they went.

"Oz Vessalius," said the man who had passed him the photograph. He had a deep, throaty kind of voice that slightly resembled rumbling thunder. "Heir to the Vessalius Dukedom," continued the man, "and he will be turning fifteen in two weeks."

The man in black clenched his fists in annoyance. If they went through the trouble of getting him a photograph, then a name was not necessary. The man disliked names. He preferred the term 'target'. Names made things more personal. It meant that the target had a conscience.

It meant that he was killing a living person.

Normally it was not a problem since his targets were usually old, filthy-rich men that did nothing but sin all their lives. The man was more than happy killing such people, since the world really could use less of them.

But this new target was young. Innocent. Free from sin. The man did not kill those that didn't do anything to deserve death. It was his policy, and these men knew it very well after the many jobs they had hired him for.

That was why the man was suddenly sceptical. Perhaps there was more to this boy than the picture was letting on. It was a universal truth that looks could be deceiving, and he certainly wasn't going to turn a blind eye to that fact. People who did so never lasted very long in this world.

So, with that thought in mind, the man in black wondered what exactly this boy did that earned him the undesirable status of 'doomed soul'.

"And you want him dead because...?" started the man, as he looked up from the picture and at the men before him. The one across him, Richard Nightray, was the only other person in the room sitting down. The other two were his nephews who stood sentinel on either side, silently observing the proceeding of things.

Richard propped his elbows on the table and laced his fingers together below his chin, before leaning forward slightly.

"Tell me. What do you know of the Vessalius Dukedom?"

The man took a moment to consider the question.

"Just the basics. They had been a fairly prestigious family in the past but after the Tragedy a hundred years ago, they quickly rose in status as one of the Four Great Dukedoms..."

Then it clicked.

"...And although the Nightrays are one of the Four as well, their reputation was severely damaged when they were accused by the Vessalius Household for helping their enemy."

Richard's fingers twitched.

"Exactly. And since then it has been the Nightray family's sworn duty to avenge our humiliated ancestors for being accused of a crime we did not commit." Then under his breath he muttered, "Now if only my blasted older brother would spare me the politics and do what must be done. Sometimes I wonder just how he gets by as our Duke.

"In other words, you have a score to settle but _some_ people are reluctant to make any moves," clarified the man, who was sounding unhappier by the minute. Not that he ever sounded happy to begin with.

The elder Nightray nodded. "This boy is the only heir to the Vessalius Dukedom. In two weeks, he will officially be recognised by society and thus he will formally start preparing to take over as the future Head."

Then his eyes narrowed. "However, we cannot allow that. There may never be such a golden opportunity ever again. In the past, there were always multiple heir candidates so it would have been reckless to kill them all. But now there is only one son. The Duke's wife is dead and he won't re-marry no matter what due to grief. His brother went missing years ago, so there's no need to worry about him. That just leaves the boy as the only heir, and with his death there shall be no one to carry forward the Vessalius lineage.

Richard unlaced his fingers and, wearing a shamelessly malicious smirk, leaned back once more against the comfort of his luxury cushioned recline chair. "And so marks the eventual extinction of the great Vessalius Dukedom."

The man glared at Richard and simply said, "I don't kill the innocent. You know that."

For the first time that night, one of Richard's nephews spoke. Ernest Nightray was a young man with reasonably good looks, with his light-coloured hair pulled back into a ponytail and a beauty mark on his right cheek. Ernest _seemed_ warm and inviting, which was why no one would ever suspect him of consorting with experienced killers such as the man in black.

He displayed his deceiving nature now as he smiled at the aforementioned man. But upon closer inspection, the smile had a sinister edge to it. "We knew you'd say that, but we weren't finished speaking yet." His voice was light and carefree which, again, added to his facade.

Now Richard's other nephew cleared his throat a bit, getting ready to speak. Claude Nightray had black hair that was slicked back as well as prominent sideburns, brown, glaring eyes and a strong jaw structure that made his face look all the more stern. Unlike Ernest, his appearance and true nature were not contradictory, but because he was Ernest's brother, no one would suspect him of anything shady either.

The man in black _almost_ smiled at the irony of it because the Nightrays were generally infamous, no-thanks to the Vessaliuses. But maybe the latter were never wrong in their accusation; the fact that someone like him was working for the Nightrays, albeit in secret to the rest of the House's members, was enough to prove that the Nightrays were untrustworthy at every degree, going so far as to keeping dangerous secrets from their own family members.

"Lately there have been several reports of brutal murders taking place in this area. The victims all had one common trait, and that was a gaping wound usually found on their chests or backs, or in rare cases, going all the way through their torsos. In addition, a large area around the wound including its edges would be severely burnt. The killings were completely random however, so naturally as a safety measure we had our men scattered around the city to gather some intelligence."

At this point, Ernest took over again. "Most of them got killed, but one has managed to come back alive. It took days before he could recover enough from the shock to speak, but it was worth the wait because guess who the killer happened to be?" he asked, in a light, breezy tone that certainly did not suit such a question.

"The boy," answered the man automatically.

Richard nodded. "And that's all the reason you need. The boy is clearly a threat to society. I highly doubt that it'll happen in the first place but just in case the impossible happens and you do get sniffed out, our man will intervene as a bystander and swear an oath that it was the boy to justify your actions."

It only took the man in black a few seconds to notice the anomaly in this explanation. "But how is a mere boy able to pull off such brutal murders? Surely the public will raise that question."

"Oh yes," breathed Richard, as though he had just remembered something important. "Allow me to enlighten you, and this is going to support our case even more." He paused, taking a slow breath solely for the purpose of building tension, before exhaling and saying, "The boy is a Contractor."

The man in black stiffened.

"Our man saw it," he continued. "The boy was clearly possessed, spewing some nonsense about needing fresh blood, and behind him there was a large, distorted figure, most likely that of the Abyss he was possessed by. But that's all our man was able to tell us since he couldn't catch a proper glimpse of the Abyss."

Richard regarded the man with a knowing look. "Now do you understand why we approached you for this job?"

There was a long period of silence, after which the man in black abruptly stood up while pocketing the picture. Without another word, he tilted his black hat down so that it shadowed out his eyes and turned to leave.

Richard smirked.

"I take it that you can guarantee us success as usual, Mister Gilbert?"

The man in black paused to turn slightly and look over his shoulder at the mention of his name, tilting his head up a bit in the process to reveal his golden eyes that stared back, cold and unforgiving.

That was all the answer the three men needed.


	2. Chapter 1: Unexpected Circumstances

Gilbert was at his limit. _One_ more flirtatious woman (or talkative musician for that matter) and he was quite certain he'd be forced to casually flash his revolver just to keep them away – his false identity be damned.

 _This_ was why he hated taking jobs from high-class nobles. Most of their missions required him to sneak into some fancy party or another and it happened so often that some people slowly started to recognise him. Being who he was, such popularity was the last thing he needed, especially since he was always surrounded by nosy men and gossiping women.

Normally this wasn't such a big problem. Richard and his nephews, who were his regular clients, realised the risk of this as well and suggested he borrow their name for the sake of association. So, during these events he was identified either as a member of the Nightray Dukedom or one of their associates. That way no one would further question who that 'handsome young man clad in black' was and where exactly he had come from.

But this time it was not so simple. Although the Nightrays had been invited, they had obviously refused to attend the party. Had it been any other Family, Richard would have taken the risk hoping his brother wouldn't be informed and sent Gilbert as their representative. However, the Vessaliuses knew of the Nightray's refusal to attend so no chances could be taken, especially since there would be a murder taking place. Even though it wasn't Gilbert's problem, the Nightrays would be the first suspects and Richard was not too keen on having the authorities at his doorstep for something he couldn't explain to Duke Nightray, who was unaware of his younger brother's schemes.

And so, after pulling a few strings and getting into touch with the concertmaster hired for all of the Vessalius Family's events, Gilbert had been introduced to Duke Vessalius as 'Antonio', a young pianist from a quiet little town located somewhere north-west of the country, near the border.

_"Yes, like his grandfather Gaspard, Antonio has also grown to be a very skilled pianist. I am told by the elder musicians that Gaspard had been good friends with the maestro who was present at your brother's coming-of-age ceremony, and was invited especially from his hometown to perform in the orchestra for that event."_

_'Antonio' bowed slightly. "It is an honour to meet you, Duke Vessalius. And it would be an even greater honour to be able to play the distinguished role that my beloved grandfather had."_

_"If it is permissible, Duke, then I would like for Antonio to participate as our pianist for this grand event because as a professional, I believe his talent is something we cannot go without."_

_The Duke patted Antonio on the shoulder and smiled first at him, then at the concertmaster. "Well, I am not one to ignore professional recommendation nor can I exactly judge better. I want Oz's ceremony to be perfect in every aspect and music is just as important as everything else. So, if this is the man you recommend than this is the man that shall be our pianist."_

_"Thank you, Duke Vessalius. I am sure this young man's grandfather would have been so proud had he been among us today."_

The next two weeks were spent mastering the long, complex and absolutely boring pieces of music in the concertmaster's personal practice room. Luckily he had plenty of experience with pianos in the past so passing off as a 'very skilled pianist' was not too difficult once he had practiced enough.

Finally, the day of the ceremony had arrived. Despite his false identity, wig of long, black hair partially tied back and fake glasses, Gilbert still seemed to be attracting a significant (and irritating) amount of attention. It was to be expected since his eye colour was quite unique but, though he never truly realised it, he _was_ quite devilishly handsome, and that was the major cause of the unwanted attention he so-often received.

He constantly spotted a crowd of watchful and giggling women from the corner of his eye, and once or twice a few of them had gathered enough courage to approach him during the intermissions which was really starting to make him lose his patience. It's not that he hated women nor was he the type to get annoyed very easily, but he'd rather not have any distractions while he worked because one minor mistake could be fatal.

Gilbert _hated_ mistakes. They always led to regrets, which was the last thing he needed since he had more than enough of them in his life as it was.

So far, he had not yet run into trouble. No one questioned his identity too much, and security was not as tight as it should have been. After all, who'd want to assassinate a _kid_? The boy in question had yet to make his appearance, but it wouldn't be long now.

All that he'd been doing up until now was playing background music as the guests took their sweet time showing up and mingling. But in a few minutes the ceremony would actually begin, after which there was to be _another_ damn party where Gilbert would be required to play his fingers off while the guests danced merrily, followed by a short closing ceremony and finally, more background music as the guests left.

Not if Gilbert had things his way though.

The plan was so simple that he felt appalled at himself just by thinking about how he'd actually be carrying it out soon. Gilbert was not used to simplicity. In all his previous jobs, security would be over the top because that's how nobles and aristocrats liked it. They were paranoid that there was always someone out there just _waiting_ to kill them, and that led them to become obsessed with their lives.

Well, in a way their precautionary measures were never in vain. Gilbert would always make sure of that.

But tonight, all he had to do was wait until the main ceremony was over, after which the target would have to go change out of his ceremonial clothes and into formal party wear. At the same time, the orchestra would be allowed to disperse for a nice, long, well-deserved break before they were slave-driven again. That's when Gilbert would sneak past the ridiculously lax security since the only time the target would be left completely alone was when he went to change. It was a little cruel, dying in nothing but a pair of boxers on the day you became a man, but that was life for you. No one would even suspect him because how could an outsider that's only visited the mansion once prior to the murder _possibly_ know its layout, let alone the location of the victim's private chambers?

All of a sudden, the conductor gave the signal for the musicians to stop playing. In front of the hall was a grand staircase that was divided into two parts; both were connected by a wide landing that had a tall, looming organ situated on the right side. The stairs went all the way up and stopped at another landing that was more than halfway above between the floor and the ceiling, forming a sort of second floor.

Up against the wall at the back was a wide, antique-looking grandfather clock, next to which was a elderly woman with brown hair tied back in a bun and half-moon spectacles. She was carrying what looked like a gold- and green-lined overcoat in her folded arms. On the lower landing, a well-built bespectacled man appeared. He was dressed in a white gold- and green-lined suit and Gilbert instantly recognised him to be the Duke from his long, golden hair that was tied back in a ponytail. He was flanked by two female servants clad in white robes and together they made their way to the centre of the platform just as the music died.

"Everyone, please be quiet. It's time," announced the Duke.

Incessant chatter obediently came to a halt while any lingering conversation became hushed.

"Right now, in keeping with tradition, we will commence Oz Vessalius's coming-of-age ceremony."

The Duke bowed slightly, before giving a slight nod at the direction of the organ where another woman dressed in white was seated, waiting, and on cue she began to play.

Despite the loud and surprisingly ominous music that was now being played, Gilbert's sharp ears managed to pick up another, very faint muffled sound in the background.

_"...Rain?"_

"And now, please welcome the person coming of age tonight to this holy place."

_"About time."_

The double doors at the back of the room swung forward dramatically and all eyes were instantly on the (rather short for a 'man') figure that proceeded slowly towards the front of the hall. By now the guests had broken into applause, but the seemingly warm and welcoming atmosphere was tainted by the hundreds of pairs of eyes that critically analysed the new addition to their high-class society.

When the orchestra had been ordered to stop playing, some of the musicians, including Gilbert, left their posts and stood by the guests to watch the proceeding of the ceremony more closely. Gilbert was lucky enough to squeeze his way into the first row and find himself a place just by the staircase so he had a clear view of the boy who looked... different, from how he had in the photograph.

His smiling mouth was now nothing more than a grim slash of determination. His bright emerald eyes seemed a shade duller, and they stared dead ahead while his brow was creased with unbreakable concentration. The braid that nearly reached his waist seemed noticeably tighter than it had in the photo which vaguely made Gilbert think how a loose braid suited him more. As reading body-language was one of the many useful skills he had learned over the years, he noticed the subtle compression of the boy's shoulders that those who noticed would wave off as practiced posture. But Gilbert knew better; it was stiffness from stress. And while he walked, the boy stood tall and so painfully upright that it made him look almost mechanical.

All in all, he looked... older. Older than a boy his age should look.

But he was still a boy, even if he was going to be considered a man in a few minutes.

...A boy that had apparently taken many innocent lives; something that Gilbert personally could not pardon.

 _"_ This _boy did...?"_

He subtly shook his head. Unnecessary thoughts were unhealthy for a mind such as his. His job was to kill, not speculate.

The... target was now walking past him and began his slow ascent up the stairs.

_"...Is it really the same boy?"_

The target came to a stop on the first landing in front of the Duke. He then got down on one knee, bent his head then placed one arm across his chest while clenching the other into a fist and resting his knuckles flat against the floor.

It was the picture of total submission.

_"But... What purpose did he have, killing all those people...?"_

The Duke held his hand over the target's head and began to recite something from an open book that he held in his other hand.

"Oh, Light of Truth, please shine upon his path. Oh, Wind of Reason, please bestow upon him your wisdom. Oh, Water of Cleansing, please cure his sickness. In the name of the Vessalius blood, Mr. Oz Vessalius has now come of age."

With that, the Duke passed the book to one of the female servants who also carried with her a large golden grail. Then he turned to the other servant. In her hands was a red pillow from which he picked up a golden-hilted ceremonial sword. He held it before him as he faced the target once more and again, recited something.

"Sword of Cleansing which allowed us to be born on this land, please cleanse his body of impurities and bestow upon him everlasting blessings."

When he neared the end of his sentence, the Duke lightly tapped the boy on both shoulders with the sword after which he said, "And with that, the impurities residing in your body have been exorcised."

After placing the sword back on the cushion, the two female helpers moved off the stage.

"Now, please recite your vow," requested the Duke, addressing the boy before him.

The target stood up and made to move for the second flight of steps, but before he passed the Duke completely he stopped for a moment and simply stood there, staring ahead with wide, unfocused eyes as the bespectacled man quietly whispered something to him with a smile. Then the target closed his eyes for a moment to regain his composure, before setting off on the rest of his journey up the stairs.

_"...Something... isn't right..."_

And though it was worth nothing, he wasn't referring to what had just transpired between the target and the Duke.

Gilbert blinked.

...So, why had he thought that, then? Or rather-

_"Stop thinking, dammit! Focus on the job. It's almost time."_

At last the unnecessarily dragged-out journey was complete, and the target stopped to regard the looming grandfather clock for a while before kneeling once more and placing his hand on it. Then he started reciting his vow, but Gilbert hadn't caught a single word of it for his attention fell upon the clock, or more specifically, its hands.

_"They're stuck at 11:59. Strange..."_

A broken clock. Why would they have a broken clock? He knew it was broken because it definitely wasn't _that_ late at night. Maybe it was some kind of tradition? A very strange one if it was.

By now the target seemed to have finished his vow. The elderly woman stepped forth to drape the white overcoat over the boy's shoulders, after which he stood up and turned to face the crowd.

The ceremony was complete. The boy was now a man.

Gilbert unconsciously reached back for his revolver concealed beneath the fabric of his tailcoat.

"...Something actually isn't right here," he breathed.

He had a familiar feeling that was kind of like a sixth sense that developed over the years due to excessive exposure to danger. Alarm bells were going off in his mind, a cold sensation blossomed within his chest and his heart started to pound faster in anticipation as the air seemed to thicken with a vague sense of tension only tangible to him. It was the same feeling he'd get whenever something really, really bad was about to happen.

And as fate would have it, something did.

Before the crowd could break into applause, something _else_ broke instead. It was the panel of windows on the ceiling to the left side of the room. Through the shower of broken glass, Gilbert's trained eyes could just make out three red blurs that most people wouldn't normally have seen due to the extreme speed at which they moved.

He didn't know by who or why, but the mansion was under attack.

The screaming began, and along with it came panic and hysteria. Gilbert quickly dodged to the side of the room as people started stampeding in random directions before scanning the area overhead. After a while, he spotted them. On one stretch of banister that lined the walkways level with the second landing stood three hooded figures dressed in blood-red cloaks. Two of them were noticeably taller than the one in between them, while the one on the right was quite large and bulky-looking in comparison to the tall, slim one on the left.

Somewhere among the deafening noise of the wild screams of terror, a grandfather clock was chiming.

_"Could it be...? But hadn't that clock stopped-"_

His train of thought was cut off when Gilbert noticed two of the taller cloaked figures swiftly swoop down and land gracefully without even the slightest hint of injury despite the sheer height and which they jumped, before moving towards two opposite locations.

 _"They're going to seal the exits before anyone leaves,"_ realised Gilbert when he noticed the directions in which the figures moved. _"These guys know what they're doing. And judging by their actions they're searching for something..."_

His eyes narrowed.

_"...Or someone."_

Gilbert spared a glance at the target who had been standing there in a daze until the bespectacled woman grabbed hold of his wrist and practically yanked him down the stairs.

Later on in life, Gilbert would often look back at this moment and berate himself for doing what he did next.

_"...They don't seem to be heavily armed, and there are only three of them. The guards stationed outside would have noticed by now, too. So it's not my problem."_

Without wasting another second, he disposed his wig and glasses – it'd only complicate the situation further if the outsider pianist was caught sneaking around – then began to make his way towards a small door located on the right side of the staircase that led deeper into the mansion, for it was there where he saw the woman and the target escape to.

"Where's Alice?!" he heard the boy cry with desperation, coming to a halt in the shadows casted by the stairs. Any closer and they'd notice him.

"She should be in her room but don't worry about her, we'll see to it that she is safe!"

The two figures bolted through the door, and Gilbert was about to follow when he noticed something gleam nearby.

The ceremonial sword.

In an instant he dashed forward, bent over slightly to swoop it up and reached back to slip it beneath his coat before continuing his pursuit.

_"This thing better not be just for show. I didn't bring too many spare bullets since I hadn't anticipated any unexpected circumstances, so I should save them for when I really need them."_

As they turned a corner, Gilbert could hear the woman shout, "This is no time to be arguing, Young Master! Your safety comes first at all costs. The Duke has strictly instructed for you to hide in the storage room on the top floor and I have no intention of letting you disobey that order no matter what!"

As they started mounting the steps two at a time, the boy cursed explicitly. "Where is he now?!" he demanded when they reached the landing.

"H-he's-" she gasped in exhaustion, "-going to try and-" another gasp, "-stabilise the situation!"

The boy cursed again and after that there was no more conversation. Gilbert moved noiselessly and stealthily, sticking to the shadows and always keeping his distance. At one point, he slowed down when a few servants rushed past him, aware of the commotion going on in the hall downstairs and desperate to escape. None of them questioned who he was, but Gilbert knew that it never hurt to be careful. He knew where the target was going anyway, and it's not like he had any escape routes.

When Gilbert finally reached the top floor, he made a sharp turn around the corner but immediately recoiled back when someone ran into him. At a glance he realised it was a maid from her outfit, and quite an unusual one judging by her shoulder-length white hair. The right side of her hair was braided with a cylindrical hair ornament that continued with diamond-shaped beads and ended with another, smaller cylinder and a smaller triangular end piece. He couldn't quite see her face from the way she bowed her head though. The maid was carrying a large, haphazardly packed suitcase that had things sticking out at odd angles, which she nearly dropped upon impact.

Gilbert spared a moment to mutter an apology and briskly walked past her. But he hadn't gone far when she suddenly began to speak, halting him in his tracks.

"A normal man would be running in the opposite direction in this situation. But then again, you've never been normal, have you _Gilbert_ ~?"

At the drawled-out mention of his name, Gilbert's eyes widened and he spun around.

But the maid was gone.

Blinking in disbelief, he took a few tentative steps forward, stopping when he spotted something on the floor where she had stood just seconds ago. Gilbert picked it up and upon closer inspection, realised it was a card.

_"King of Hearts? And it's mutilated, too."_

Someone had coloured in the eyes of the king with a red ink; they seemed like twin pools of blood, and also scribbled a wide grin over the mouth. Overall it made him look quite disturbing. On impulse, Gilbert decided to pocket the card before resuming his mission. He'd look into it and that mysterious maid later.

Once he neared his destination, he slipped into one of the unlocked rooms upon spotting the bespectacled woman and waited.

"Had they not blocked the exits we'd have taken you away, but now hiding is the only other alternative. So lock yourself in here and no matter what you hear – I'm dead serious Young Master – no matter _what you hear_ or no matter _who_ starts banging on this door; unless it's the Duke or I, _do not_ come out. Do you understand?"

"Mrs. Kate, I-"

"Please, Young Master Oz. Don't disobey this time because... this may be the very last order you hear from us..."

There was a momentary period of suffocating silence which was broken by the sound of the door being hastily shut and bolted, followed by the woman's receding footsteps.

Gilbert should have moved right about then. But something was stopping him, and that was a twinge of unease in his chest that seemed to plague him the more he thought about what exactly he was going to do.

He was going to kill a _young boy_...

A boy who was apparently a vicious murderer and Contractor...

_"...He's probably going to get killed by those crimson-cloaked people anyway. How could they possibly not notice a target like him missing? It'll only be a matter of time until they find him... No, they'll drag it out just to mess with him. Family and friends usually go first as a warning, as bait to lure out the catch. But with that woman's last words, he'd be torn in between going to save them and staying to save himself, not that he can accomplish either. It's practically a scene out of a nightmare..."_

Then, he was suddenly struck with a startling realisation.

_"To have everything you ever loved on the line and no way out... It's just like when..."_

And at that point he knew he had to stop thinking, because then the memories would resurface and the last thing he wanted to do was jeopardise the entire mission by losing his composure.

Gilbert closed his eyes and took several deep breaths as he pondered over his next course of action for a few minutes. When he finally reached a decision, he slipped outside and approached the double doors of the storage room.

_"I'll do the boy a favour..."_

Gilbert reached down for his gun.

_"...by putting an end to his life before the misery comes."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ceremony scene probably seems familiar to most people because I quoted the dialogue from the anime. But I’ve added my own little twist to it; you might also notice that the environment of the ceremony itself is a bit different, since originally there isn't supposed to be an orchestra or anything like that.


	3. Chapter 2: Duel

Oz sat hunched in one corner of the dark, dusty room that was once a spacious master bedroom in the past. But when its occupants abandoned it eleven years ago, it was converted into a storage room due to its vastness. And as he sat there, utterly alone while people were probably being killed down below at that very moment, Oz just couldn't seem to find the right words to describe how he felt.

Shocked. Terrified. Worried. Confused. Numb. Nauseous. Light-headed. Disgusted. Useless.

There might've been more, but his train of thought crashed into a premature halt when he heard the loud, heart-stopping sound of a gun going off. The twist-lock below the door handle practically exploded, causing dust and splinters to fly up into the air before descending to the ground at their own pace and making Oz start in surprise.

No... It couldn't be... They had found him already?!

The gun went off again for four more times, this time aimed at both the outer edges of the door, and with a sinking feeling of dread Oz realised that they were literally going to blow the door off its hinges.

Suddenly the gunshots stopped, and for some reason that made him more worried than when the door was being shot at.

The air buzzed with the deafening sound of eerie silence for several seconds.

And then the door flew forward with a loud _slam_ as it was harshly kicked forward from the outside. Oz automatically scurried further back into the shadows and curled himself into a ball, trying to make himself as small as possible. He was already well out of the door's range and out of the light, but he wasn't going to take any chances and risk getting spotted.

Oz couldn't see in his current position. He had the disadvantage here. If he moved now, the intruder might notice. But sound was just as valuable as sight, and his ears told him that judging by the footsteps, the intruder was in no apparent hurry to kill him. Or maybe they had just stumbled upon this place by chance...?

"Let's cut to the chase, boy," said a dark, male voice. "I know you're here. So show yourself."

Oz swallowed. Well, since they really did know he was here, there was no point in depriving himself of sight any longer. He uncurled from his ball-form and blinked several times to adjust to the strong light from outside. There was a tall, lean figure blocking most of it though, and the only feature Oz could make out was the seaweed-like hair.

"Wh-who are you?" started Oz, mentally cursing himself at the way his voice wavered slightly. Then, summoning all his determination, he shouted, "What do you want from me?! You're one of them, aren't you; the ones that broke in?" Then, after a pause, "What did you do with my father?!" he blurted, but as soon as the words left his mouth his fierce expression slipped for a second as utter surprise flashed across his eyes. He momentarily shut them and quickly masked it.

Ignoring the teen's strange change of expression, the man immediately let off one warning shot. Oz exhaled roughly through his nose in frustration but otherwise said nothing.

"You're in no position to be asking so many questions," stated the man calmly. "But since it _is_ your final few moments of existence, I guess I could grant you the luxury of answers."

The man began reloading his gun at a casual pace, answering Oz's questions as he did so. "My name isn't important but if it will allow you to rest in peace, then it's Gilbert. All I want is to take your life; nothing more, nothing less. No, I am not one of those fools that broke in and ruined an otherwise perfectly smooth operation, and I know nothing of your father..."

Gilbert inserted the last bullet and cocked his gun, before directing his nonchalant gaze at Oz. "For all I know, he might already be dead."

"You bastard!" growled Oz, his entire frame shaking with uncontainable fury. It took all his restraint to prevent himself from clenching his fists too tightly lest his nails dig too deeply into his skin.

Gilbert closed his eyes and sighed, expertly aiming his gun right at Oz's heart in the process. "I can't believe they hired a professional to take out some rich brat with a dirty mouth," he muttered.

Oz took advantage of the fact that Gilbert had momentarily closed his eyes and quickly groped around him, looking for something he could use as a weapon. Eventually his hand felt something long and cool sticking out from a crate to his right that was concealed in the shadows. He gingerly grabbed it after realising it was some sort of sharp object and when he pulled it onto his lap to get a better look, he almost smiled at his luck.

By now Gilbert had opened his eyes and upon seeing the boy doing his best to suppress a _smile_ , he raised an eyebrow in bewilderment. Was this boy so terrified that he was starting to lose him mind?

And then, the tip of an old, bejewelled-hilted sword was suddenly being pointed towards him.

He stared at Oz, clearly surprised at this bold move. Oz had stood up by now and simply glared back, doing his best to look more determined than he actually felt. He _had_ taken combat classes regularly but actual sword fighting was much different, not to mention that the sword in his hand was nothing more than a decorative sword, so there was a chance that it might not even be as sharp – or sturdy – as a real one.

Once his initial shock subsided, Gilbert couldn't resist a smirk because _goodness_ , this boy really had no idea who he was up against, was he? Still, his determination was admirable. Most of his victims would already be begging on their knees by this point, and those were the ones who _didn't_ know who he was.

"You wish to fight like the man you now are?" lilted Gilbert, though the dangerous gleam in his eye warned that he was by all means in no playful mood.

A fierce pair of angry green eyes continued to stare into molten gold ones, unwavering.

"Then... So be it. At the very least you will die with your honour intact."

Gilbert shoved his gun back into its holster before reaching behind him, much to Oz's confusion. He slipped his left hand under his coat and when he retracted it again, he brought out the gold-hilted ceremonial sword he had picked up earlier.

Without even waiting for the gasp of surprise to fully escape Oz's lips, Gilbert lunged towards him with the tip of his sword aiming directly for Oz's heart, clearly intending to go straight for the kill on the first blow. Oz just managed to sidestep to the right in time; however, he was not as fast as he thought he was. Almost immediately, Oz felt a stinging pain across his left arm and upon glancing down, he noticed a gash that tore through his flesh. It wasn't too deep or painful, but the fact that Gilbert had come so close on the first blow meant that he'd have to be very nimble with his movements.

Gilbert recovered at once and took two steps back just as Oz slashed upwards, after which Gilbert jabbed at Oz again. This time he managed to block it by bringing his sword back down to knock Gilbert's one out of the way.

They should've noticed it by then; the subtle but sure rise in temperature.

Oz took his chance and kicked Gilbert in the chest to put some distance in between them, making sure to drive the heel of his boot into the solid wall of muscles beneath. Gilbert stumbled back a bit and Oz wasted no time as he dashed forward, raising his sword with a cry of fury as he went. Gilbert spared a moment to glare at him before raising his sword just in time to block the blow. Oz kept pushing forward though, baring his teeth in frustration while Gilbert pushed back with effortless force and a stony look.

At once their swords slipped; the friction caused minor sparks to fly, but Oz was also able to graze Gilbert's cheek in the process. It was a spark of hope considering that he was fighting someone who was probably a trained hit man.

Both flew at each other once again. Their swords clashed repeatedly as each man tried to land a hit on the other. Oz cried out with each swing while Gilbert kept blocking the volley of non-stop attacks Oz was hurling his way, determined not to give the man a chance to attack. But as he blocked, Gilbert began to push forward with each clash of their swords until Oz was forced to start moving back.

Eventually, he was cornered.

Oz gasped and glanced behind him when he felt his back against the wall and Gilbert smirked, using the moment of distraction to launch an offensive strike. Oz whipped his sword up just in time and blocked with all his might, but it took him every bit of energy to prevent both swords from slicing into his neck.

Sweat began trickling down Oz's face and back while he stared into a pair of fierce yet hypnotic golden eyes.

"What's wrong, kid?" asked Gilbert in a slightly husky voice, but the mocking undercurrent did not go unnoticed by Oz. "Is this really the best you can do even while someone goes easy on you?"

Oz shut his eyes and gritted his teeth as he tried to block out the man's taunts while resisting the force of his opponent's blade. However, Gilbert was just too strong and his arm was tiring.

An unusual, faint scent was in the air but both males were far too concentrated on each other to notice.

Oz opened his eyes by a fraction and glanced down at their blades, which was when an idea suddenly came to mind. It wasn't exactly safe, but it was much better than getting his throat slit simultaneously by two blades.

At once he raised his free arm and latched onto the upper half of his own blade and pushed, biting his lip to prevent a strangled cry threatening to spill at the excruciating pain of having the tender flesh of his palm and fingers slowly sliced open. Gilbert soon noticed this and for a moment he was thrown off guard by utter shock. It wasn't anticipated by Oz but he was thankful for that moment of weakness, for in the next he pushed with all his might against Gilbert's sword before twisting his body and crashing into the other's chest with his shoulder, attempting to shove him back.

The force was enough to knock him back and Gilbert's steps faltered, causing him to crash into a stack of old boxes. Oz took the chance to catch his breath, momentarily thinking how it was strange for him to be out of it so fast. In fact, it felt more as though the oxygen entering his lungs suddenly wasn't as much as usual, which was quite odd, but there would be time to ponder over that later... If there was a later.

As he stood there panting, he held up his hand and winced at the sight of the deep cuts as well as the blood that was steadily seeping out from his wounds. So, he swiftly pulled off his cravat and hastily tied it around his hand as a makeshift bandage to temporarily stop the bleeding.

His enemy had gotten up by now so Oz instantly held up his sword again. Gilbert was about to do the same but in that very same moment, he suddenly noticed an ominous but very faint crackling sound present all around them. That also lead him to pick up the strange scent from earlier which was now stronger, and now that he was paying attention, it was not that strange at all. Rather, it was somewhat easily identifiable to him. Also, the room seemed to have gotten hotter and hazier...

And then it hit him.

_"Don't tell me they...?"_

With a start, Gilbert spun towards the door and his worst suspicions were confirmed. Streaming through the hallway outside and into the room were several tendrils of wispy grey smoke that seemed to be getting heavier by the minute.

_"They've set the mansion on fire?!"_

Suddenly he heard Oz cry out in rage, as well as his pounding footsteps that got louder at an alarming rate.

_"Oh shit...!"_

Gilbert brought up his sword as swiftly as he could to block while simultaneously turning to Oz, who was charging at him with his own sword already in the air.

But he was too late.

Oz slashed his sword downwards with great force before Gilbert could raise his own to block.

The man's eyes widened when he saw blood spray out from his chest in large amounts, tainting the once-innocent boy before him with the impure essence of a murderer.

_"...I've been...?"_

Gilbert couldn't even complete his thought due to the astonishment he was feeling, because he simply could not recall the last time anyone had _ever_ landed a proper blow on him, let alone such a lethal one. Just how lenient had he become, if a mere _boy_ was able to pull off such a feat?

Seconds passed in deafening silence, tainted only by the growing noise of crackling fire. Neither man moved a muscle.

And then Gilbert's sword slipped out of his weak grasp. But rather than succumbing to unconsciousness, he dropped to his knees before slumping forward and stubbornly attempted to steady himself with one hand braced against the floor, while splaying the fingers of his other hand uselessly against his bleeding chest.

Oz, too, dropped his sword before falling onto his knees while clutching his head in a vice-like grip. His eyes were alarmingly wide from shock and his whole body shook from the tremors of uncontrollable fear. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he glanced down and nearly fainted right there and then at the sickeningly huge amount of crimson blood splattered across his previously spotless, white clothes.

Gilbert's blood.

_"D-did... Did I just... K-kill...?"_

The thought made him so very nauseous. Not just that, but the metallic taste of foreign blood on his lips, the faint but rancid stench of burning flesh in the air, the crackling sound of wild fire and the heavy smoke all infiltrated his system, torturing each and every one of his senses.

And then, before he could even entertain the notion of throwing up, the walls around him began cracking while the floorboards below him started to groan dangerously.

They were about to give way.

A fall from that height might break a few bones at most, but the roof that would crash onto them would surely kill him if he didn't get out of the way.

But what could he do? Where could he go? The fire was already here, surrounding him, blinding him, suffocating him.

It was better this way, wasn't it? If he just died already? A useless, cowardly boy like him deserved such a fate anyway...

Suddenly, through his unfocused daze, he spotted movement in front of him and with a gasp, he realised that it was _Gilbert_ trying to get back up on his feet. Oz swiftly got up and shuffled a few paces back on reflex. He knew he should've been somewhat happy that the man wasn't dead, or rather, scared that he was still alive, but he didn't even get the chance to think because he was more focused on trying to make out Gilbert's muffled words that were lost over the sound of the raging embers.

"...mp...rry..."

When Oz made no move or sound, Gilbert snapped his head up and gazed irritably into the other's startled emerald eyes. "Jump...! Hurry..." he rasped, before hanging his head once more and wincing at the pain that the simple act of speaking was bringing him.

Oz just gaped at Gilbert, bewildered. _Jump?_ Where to? Where from? _Why?_

By now Gilbert had gotten off his knees but he still swayed heavily from the blood-loss induced dizziness. Then he met Oz's eyes briefly once more and that was the only warning Oz got when suddenly two hands slammed into his chest, and he was abruptly shoved backwards. Oz staggered straight towards the window that overlooked the mansion's gardens. At the very same time he heard two gunshots being fired and felt the two bullets whiz past him towards the window that shattered right when his back made contact with it, causing him to topple right through.

The impact of the glass shattering against his back was a startling experience and the heavy torrent of rain felt like millions of tiny icicles were stabbing his skin. But Oz's mind failed to register anything at that moment because not only was he falling to his probable death, but a bloody chest was suddenly pressed up against him while two arms wrapped themselves around his head and waist securely. Then he felt his entire body rotating, and with a sense of cold dread he realised what was happening.

In order to prevent them from getting crushed from the roof, Gilbert, who was apparently still alive, had thrown them both out the window. But for some reason the man had pulled Oz close to his chest and switched their positions so that Gilbert's back faced the earth instead.

He was going to take the fall's direct impact.

_"But_ why _?!"_ screamed Oz's mind frantically, during the few seconds remaining before they collided with the unforgiving earth below. " _He was trying to kill me earlier. Why is he doing this?! Why is he trying to save me?!"_

And then they hit the ground. The impact was strong – strong enough to shatter a bone or two maybe – even though Gilbert was there to cushion the fall and Oz literally had all the air knocked out of him.

His overwhelmed senses began to shut down from the physical and mental shock. Soon his vision began to turn dark and the world around him slowly faded away, but the last thing he registered before his senses abandoned him completely was a distant but ferocious roar that could be made out over the rumbling thunder and Gilbert's weak heartbeat below his ear.

And also… a mysterious but comforting sapphire light that seemed to be pulsating softly from Gilbert's chest...


	4. Chapter 3: Time

"Nnh..."

As Oz slowly regained consciousness, the first thing that hit him was memories of his coming-of-age ceremony that flashed by in his mind, one by one.

He remembered how he nervously paced outside the hall when it was almost time, he remembered walking down that red carpet and up the stairs with practiced determination, he remembered each and every word of the oaths, he remembered the ceremonial sword that...

...Sword...?

The more recent memories hit Oz like a brick, making him recoil in shock and wonder if what he was remembering truly happened because of how utterly unbelievable it all seemed.

Tentatively, Oz sat upright but then immediately doubled over while groaning at the pain he felt pulsating throughout his sore body, which briefly made him wonder how he even managed to survive as he struggled with each minute movement.

His eyes widened.

Survive.

He had survived.

But... What about Gilbert...?

Oz looked to his side and inhaled sharply at the sight before him. Gilbert, who Oz earlier noticed to have a naturally ghostly pale complexion, was now deathly white. His chest must've been bleeding profusely since his expensive white dress shirt was now dyed completely crimson. He could even make out patches of blood on the silky black overcoat.

The gash was also visible, and Oz felt light-headed just from looking at the long, deep, diagonal tear that stretched across the man's chest. Gilbert seemed to be unconscious and his chest, at first, looked as though it wasn't moving. But then Oz shakily reached for the other's left hand, carefully turned it over so that the palm was facing him and lightly pressed the pads of his index and middle finger on the wrist, before waiting patiently.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt a very faint but definite pulse.

But his relief was short-lived. That kind of weak pulse meant that Gilbert probably didn't have much time left, and Oz had no idea how long they had laid there, out cold (and _in_ the cold, now that he noticed his surroundings, with an involuntary shiver). Hopefully it was possible to save the man but only if he could get him to a hospital as fast as possible.

With the intention of looking for help, Oz then looked up towards the disastrous wreckage that was once his home. But he was unable to stop his jaw from slackening nor the silent gasp of utter shock that slipped past his lips when he saw the extent of the damage.

Apart from a small section of the east and west wings, the _entire_ main structure had collapsed onto itself, thus turning into nothing more than a giant pile of charred rubble. The fire that had consumed it for a time had long been doused by the heavy rain that had now stopped, which would explain why he and Gilbert were not just a pile of ashes right now. But although it stopped the fire from spreading too much, it also meant that it was very unlikely that anyone from the city had noticed any heavy clouds of smoke or a bright, blazing trail of ember in the distance. Surely they would have come to investigate by now if that had been the case.

Dazed, Oz slowly got to his feet and rounded the corner towards the entrance to better see the scope of the damage, and to see if there was anyone who could help him.

And when he did, his heart nearly stopped because of what he saw.

Blood.

Bodies.

Ashes.

Death.

Scattered across the front garden were several dead bodies of the Vessalius guards, as well as a few servants and even three or four guests, all of whom were clearly brutally murdered judging from the unsightly state of the corpses and the sickeningly large pools of blood. And poking out from above and beneath the rubble were even more battered corpses as well as limbs, some of which were even disembodied.

The nightmarish image would then burn itself into his memory, only to haunt him night after night for a very long time to come.

It was at that point when the pungent stench of death finally assaulted his senses. Combined with the horrendous sight before him, his vision turned blurry and his head began to spin almost painfully, which was all the warning Oz got before he abruptly turned to his side and threw up with such force that at one point he dropped to his knees and had to brace himself with his hands against the cold, wet ground lest he collapsed completely.

When his stomach had finally settled somewhat, Oz took a minute to catch his breath. H'e wiped the edge of his mouth with one sleeve and the small tears of pain that gathered in the corner of his eyes with the other, before shakily picking himself up again. Forcing himself to regain back some of his resolve, Oz continued to circle the perimeter of the wreckage, praying desperately in his heart to find any survivors.

His prayers were not answered.

With each forward step he took, the more he seemed to fall deeper into a pit of despair. No matter how much he wished for it to change, the view before his eyes remained the same. Wherever he looked he would only find lifeless bodies, most peeking through the rubble, but every now and then he would find a body of a servant or guest that must've been so desperate to escape that it was highly possible that they too had jumped from windows – and had gotten killed in the attempt.

Oz's pace picked up with the increasing anxiety growing in his heart until he was practically running. All the while he found it very hard to believe that the damage he was witnessing was caused by the fire alone, and vaguely wondered if some other powerful forces had been at work.  He noted two or three unexplainable shallow craters near the entrance as well as sections of the building which were simply carved off, leaving behind smooth, hollow curves on the surface of what was left of the east and west wings.

And then, he was suddenly back to square one. When he saw Gilbert in his line of sight once more, the despairing reality finally sunk in for the young Vessalius heir.

There was no one who could help him... because he and Gilbert were the only survivors left on this summit of death.

...Unbelievable... Who exactly _were_ those people that broke in? And how on earth did they manage to cause _this_ much destruction? How did they manage to spill _this_ much blood? Those were the questions whirling in Oz's mind as he stared blankly at the wreckage once more, unable – unwilling – to fully grasp the reality of the situation.

His home was utterly destroyed. As far as he could see, no one had made it out alive. And as for those who had been trapped inside...

One by one, the faces of those he knew flashed past his mind's eye.

"No..." he whispered. Oz started shaking his head slowly at first but soon his movements became more vigorous, as though by shaking his head hard enough he might be able to expel the horrid images filling his mind.

All of a sudden a recent memory invaded his thoughts, making him freeze completely.

_"I'm proud of you, son."_

...Those words... Those were words Oz had never, ever expected _him_ to say. Yet, with a sincere smile he had finally said them to Oz before the boy ascended that final flight of stairs...

But Oz would probably never, ever hear them again.

"This can't be happening..." he whispered, trembling. "This... Isn't happening... No... No...! No, no, NO, NO, NOOOOO!" he screamed, and he would have gone on had his parched throat not failed to let out anymore sound at that point.

So in some vague attempt to regain his composure, Oz clutched his forehead and took several deep breaths while trying to clear his head from all thoughts. After each slow exhale, his trembling reduced gradually as the fear and sorrow slowly released its vice grip on his mind, until it finally stopped altogether leaving Oz feeling absolutely drained, hollow, and mentally exhausted.

 _"...Calm down..."_ he told himself at last. _"You still don't know for sure what really happened... There's still a chance that a few people might've escaped somehow. After all, some even made it outside despite the fact that the intruders tried to prevent that, and there should've been some time before the mansion was actually set on fire..."_

And with that thought, Oz somehow managed to suppress the dire urge to just tug at his own hair and scream in frustration at how powerless he was feeling, as well as the brief memory of the faint but undeniable stench of burning flesh he had picked up minutes before he was shoved out the window.

Then his eyes landed on Gilbert once more.

_"...Adapt. Adapt to the situation. What's done is done... The past won't change no matter what I do. But I can still shape the future..."_

It pained him far too greatly, but now was not the time to mourn... He would put off the dire need to cry his heart out for later, because as miraculous as it was Gilbert was still alive, so at the very least Oz didn't want to let another life slip through his fingers if he could help it. He needed to get Gilbert to the hospital. Immediately.

But how?

Carrying him there was out of the option. The Vessalius mansion had been built on a secluded little hill just on the outskirts of the city. It wasn't as far as it sounded but Oz wouldn't be able to support Gilbert's weight on his own nevertheless. Even if he tried, his pace would be excruciatingly slow and also, it wasn't advisable moving the man too recklessly in case he had any broken bones or if he started bleeding again, if that was even possible (he made a mental note to study each and every single medical journal he could get his hands on for future reference if he ever made it past this traumatic incident).

Feeling the icy night wind snake beneath his damp clothes once more, Oz quickly shrugged off his coat and placed it over Gilbert's chest. He didn't know if it would actually help or not but the last thing he wanted was for the man to catch his death of cold. But the action was also partially done to shield that gaping wound from his sight, since the guilt it sparked within him was greatly hindering his thought process.

After that Oz released a weary sigh and collapsed onto his back beside Gilbert, utterly exhausted. Gilbert had done quite some damage to him as well but despite the fact that he tried to kill Oz, he couldn't and just wouldn't let the man die.

_"He was supposed to kill me... But instead he saved my life. Yet I..."_

And then a thought hit him.

_"Wait... If I can't get him to a hospital, then perhaps I could at least bring a doctor to him?"_

Oz abruptly sat up.

_"Maybe I could even get some people to help carry him properly and report this accident to the authorities. But that would mean making two trips to the city; one to get help and the other when we carry him back... There's no guarantee that he'll still be alive by that point though."_

He took Gilbert's limp hand in his once more to check his pulse and after a while Oz's eyes widened as the urgency of the situation hit him.

_"His heartbeat is so weak that I'm starting to wonder if it's actually there or if I'm just imagining it..."_

The fingers resting on Gilbert's wrist curled into a fist.

_"He doesn't have time for two trips, dammit! The only option that leaves me is carrying him but how can I possibly do that on my own?!"_

Anger washed over him and he felt his eyes sting, but he refused to let the tears of frustration fall. Instead, he found himself hanging his head in defeat.

"Why?!" he silently spat. "Why am I so useless? Why am I so helpless? Why, dammit... _Why_...?"

_"Time... I wish I had time... That's all I need. Then two trips could be made, and Gilbert could be saved..."_

There was a brief period of silence, before...

_'There is a way to save him, human...'_

Oz's eyes flew open. A distorted, young female voice echoed within his mind, and he was instantly alert.

_'...At a price, of course.'_

Oz immediately got to his feet while calling out, "Please, tell me! How do I save him?!"

He waited for some sort of response. It came almost immediately, again, in his head.

_'So, you're not even the least bit bothered as to who I am? Or rather, what I am? Aren't you amazed at-'_

"I am," answered Oz hurriedly. "But right now there's a more urgent matter at hand. Please... He doesn't have much time left."

The voice laughed bitterly. _'Time... I can provide you with all the time in the world, boy. But only if you're able to handle it all, that is,'_ she finished, cryptically.

Oz did his best to remain calm, but he was honestly starting to lose his patience. "How?"

_'...Why are you so keen on saving that man, anyway? He tried to kill you, didn't he? And don't you find it unusual how he's not dead despite-'_

"I don't care!" snapped Oz, before quickly regretting his outburst. The last thing he wanted was to offend this mysterious presence that could apparently help him, especially after he had cut it off twice. "...He probably had his reasons," continued Oz, calming down a bit. "Whatever it was, I'm not mad at him because..." Then he lowered his gaze in shame. "Someone like me... Doesn't deserve to live..."

_"It would've been better if he simply shot me that time... I still don't understand why he didn't. At least he would've been able to complete his mission quickly and escape safely..."_

"...I lost my mother eleven years ago," started Oz all of a sudden, so softly that he didn't even realise he was speaking. "She... died while trying to protect me... Now the rest of my family is probably dead too, as well as so many other innocent people. So at the very least, I want to save this one life tonight. That's why..." Oz clenched his fists. "Please! Tell me how to save him! I don't want to be so powerless anymore... I don't want to be so _worthless_ anymore..."

The voice was quiet for a long time, making Oz panic since he thought that he really had offended it after all. But thankfully, it eventually spoke again.

_'Do not devalue human life so carelessly, boy.'_

"...Eh?"

_'Human life is the most precious thing to my kind. And it's usually those like you who are especially valuable to us.'_

Oz was now thoroughly confused. "Your... kind?"

_'I won't sugar-coat my words, boy. Listen carefully! I am what a selected few call an "Abyss". There are others like me, but just so you know I happen to be one of the strongest. We are residents of the Realm of Darkness and are attracted to people's wishes.'_

"Wishes...?" echoed Oz.

_"...I wish I had time..."_

The voice seemed to know what Oz was thinking.

 _'Yes. That wish. Normally people only make such wishes when they're at the verge of death, because that's when their souls scream out to us the loudest. But you're the first human_ I've _come across whose soul was able to scream its loudest even though death doesn't haunt you.'_

"...What do our wishes have to do with anything?"

_'We are able to grant those wishes if the human agrees to make a Contract with us, but in return our Contractor must sacrifice control of their bodies to us and serve as our vessels for as long as they live. That is the price of our miracles.'_

"So, in other words... you possess us," stated Oz bluntly.

He could've sworn the voice was smirking when it spoke its next word.

_'Exactly. However, we don't just choose any human as our Contractor. Usually we're attracted to wishes that our powers are able to grant, but even then the human might not be able to fully support our powers. Therefore, the stronger we are, the stronger our vessel needs to be, both physically and mentally.'_

Oz had one final question. "And what happens to those that can't support your powers?"

The voice was punctual with its answer.

_'They die.'_

There was a period of silence as Oz took in all he had been told, which the voice broke as it began speaking once more.

_'It has been so very long since I last found someone even worthy of being my vessel. Your mind is already quite strong, boy. I can sense it. But I also sense that you have room for tremendous growth. That's why you should be honoured for being able to host a powerful Abyss such as myself, as well as being my very first Contractor.'_

_"...It's not like I've got anything else to lose anyway. If all she wants is control of my body, I am more than willing to offer it if it means I can save a life in exchange. As for what happens after... Well, I can't think of why a mysterious entity such as this would want to possess me for anything other than something bad. But at this point, it really doesn't matter anymore, does it?"_

At last, Oz gave his answer.

"Fine. I will make a Contract with you, and in return you must help me save this man. What must I do?"

Suddenly the air seemed to grow far colder than was normal for a frosty December night, and within a matter of seconds he felt an ominous presence from behind. Oz spun around, not knowing what to expect.

He inhaled sharply at what he saw.

Before him, a giant humanoid figure with a rabbit's head was materialising. Its fur was black while its eyes were two narrow, deep crimson slits. Lethal talons protruded from its fingers and pierced on top of its left ear were two small, circular gold earrings. It wore an overcoat adorned with red and black diamonds; its cuffs were also white and tied around its neck was a large, white bow. The rabbit-like figure also wore black pants with white, knee-length laced boots.

In its left hand, it wielded what first appeared to be a large, red scythe. A giant, golden pocket watch was attached by the chain to the upper end of the handle. Its extremely long chain was wrapped around the handle just below, before the rest of it trailed out and around the Abyss's form. At the end of the chain was a lethal arrowhead. On the upper right-hand side of the watch were three more similar arrowheads that seemed to be protruding from within the watch itself. Opposite the arrowheads on the left was the scythe's deadly blade, also seeming to mysteriously originate from within the watch. Finally, there were large, silver chains encircling the Abyss, the ends of which seemed to be emerging from and fading into nothingness.

The rabbit-figure smirked, and Oz could see rows of jagged white teeth sharp enough to rip through flesh effortlessly.

"You leave the rest to me," it replied, in the same female voice Oz had heard in his head, only this time it was louder, clearer, and much more sinister.

And then, from its semi-solid state it began to glow until it was nothing more than a radiant sphere of light that shot towards Oz, completely surrounding his body for a few brief seconds before suddenly entering it through his mouth.

"Hn-ngh...! Aaagh... AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

Oz howled in pure agony as the mighty Abyss infiltrated his mind and body. He dropped to his knees, screaming when he felt a searing pain in his chest next to his heart as though something was trying to forcefully make space for itself there, before grabbing onto the left side of his face when he felt a sharp, burning sensation below his left eye. A small but strong red light seeped through his fingers from a tattoo that was slowly being carved onto his skin.

It was now make or break. If Oz was incapable of hosting this particular Abyss, he would die before the tattoo completed. But the Abyss was not wrong when she believed in Oz's potential to be her vessel.

The tattoo was roughly taking the form of a long, upside-down triangle that took up most of Oz's cheek. The top side curved at the end to outline the boy's left eye before coming back down sharply where it curved inwards like the other side, and together they formed a curved 'm' shape. The middle of the 'm' connected with two short upside down trapeziums, the one below being smaller, and then it branched out diagonally on either side before coming back down to meet at the triangle's bottom point which nearly touched Oz's jaw line. There was a small patch of unmarked skin within the lower triangle in the shape of a cross.

Very soon it was complete. Oz's irises slowly turned crimson and his pupils became long and narrow, while his scream melded into a fit of insane laughter as the Abyss slowly gained control of each and every one of Oz's senses, one by one. His voice remained, but it now had a distinct monstrous undertone to it which belonged to the voice of the Abyss. However, it would eventually subside once the possession was complete.

The possession itself was not supposed to be such a traumatically painful process. Usually the Contractor would simply feel a sharp pain coming from their chests but otherwise there would be no other side effects, like Oz's blood-curdling screams or the waves of excruciating pain pulsating through his body originating from the general area of his heart.

But then again, Oz's Abyss _did_ mention that she was one of _the_ most powerful ones out there.

As his laughter died down, the now possessed Oz held his hands before him and slowly flexed his finger, staring at them with wide, blood red irises filled with mad delight.

"Finally..." breathed the Abyss, now in Oz's voice. "After fifteen long, wasted years of futile searching... B-RABBIT FINALLY WALKS THE EARTH! AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAA!"

Once her second fit of crazed laughter ceased, B-Rabbit gently wrapped the arms that were now, in effect, hers, around the torso that was also now hers and closed her eyes, hugging it lovingly.

"It's perfect," she mumbled. "This boy is perfect. As I suspected, he has much potential. Oh, the things I could do with him~" But then, upon noticing a minor flaw in her otherwise perfect vessel, she frowned.

_"Hmm... He could use a bit more calcium, though. A few extra centimetres would do him good."_

Suddenly she felt a sharp pain near her heart. For the briefest of moments, Oz's eyes turned from crimson to emerald as his conscious mind tried to resurface and she could hear Oz's voice just like how Oz had heard her voice earlier.

_'Are you implying that I'm short?!'_

After some heavy concentration, B-Rabbit smiled sardonically once she had fully suppressed Oz's mind so that he was no longer in touch with the world around them.

_"He's stronger than I thought if he was able to break through in this state and override my control like that. I heard that the Contractor usually goes out like a light once they're under but it actually took me a bit of effort to put him to sleep."_

After that, B-Rabbit stood up shakily, still adjusting to the amazing feeling of being in a real, tangible human body, albeit a battered and thoroughly exhausted one. Still, a body was a body.

"Time to get to work," she muttered breathlessly, as she stretched her arms high above her head a bit.

She approached Gilbert while holding out her hand, on top of which a smaller, covered version of the giant golden pocket watch chained to her scythe began to materialise in a sphere of gentle, purple light. Once it had completed materialising and slowly fell onto her outstretched palm, she couldn't help but regard it for a while.

_"My power materialised into a simple, tiny object... I don't feel comfortable leaving it out in the open like this but I have no choice. It'll be very difficult maintaining any form of time-stop while being so far out of range without completely draining this boy's energy and killing him. So the best I can do is leave something behind in my place. And that's manifested time manipulation power itself."_

She kneeled beside Gilbert while pressing a small button on the side of the watch. The cover sprang open to reveal the same clock face as the one tied to her scythe; the outer ring displayed the numbers and both clock hands currently displayed twelve o'clock while the inner circle was hollow in favour of revealing the watch's intricate golden gears.

As soon as the lid had been opened, a large, invisible barrier began to expand over her and Gilbert but before it touched the ground, B-Rabbit closed her eyes and concentrated hard, eyebrows furrowed. The watch began to glow and the barrier started to softly pulse a light purple colour as it began to reduce in radius, until finally it was just enough to cover Gilbert. At that point she stopped concentrating and the purple glow faded, making the barrier invisible again.

 _"To think that I am able to do things like this only now..._ This _is the power of a Contract – a key that unlocks my dormant powers."_

B-Rabbit glanced at the watch and as expected, the hands had moved very slightly, like a timer should. After only a brief pause of hesitation, she concealed the watch on Gilbert's chest just below the fold of his coat, before standing up and releasing a sigh. B-Rabbit took a few steps back until she was well out of the barrier's range, then she closed her eyes again and this time allowed Oz's mind to take over.

Below closed eyelids, blood-red irises faded back to emerald green as the tattoo slowly vanished.

Oz began to stagger as a strong wave of fatigue hit him once he regained control of his body, but B-Rabbit's sharp, commanding voice just managed to stop him from blacking out.

_'Don't collapse! I know the feeling is strong, but we don't have time to waste.'_

Oz nodded, though he immediately felt silly for doing so since there was no one to see it.

_'The longer I possess you or the more power I use, the more fatigue you'll feel afterwards. It's common for a new Contractor to faint once they regain control, so don't worry. But for now you absolutely mustn't. Persevere, otherwise he won't make it.'_

"I understand," said Oz, as he turned to face Gilbert while fighting the wonderfully dark fog clouding his mind that threatened to lull him to sleep. B-Rabbit began to explain, partly to distract him from the fatigue and keep his attention where it needed to be.

_'I am known as the Bloodstained Black Rabbit, or B-Rabbit for short, and I am the Abyss that reigns over time. I can control it and manipulate it according to my will. For now, I've manifested my power in the form of my pocket watch to create a time-stop barrier around his body, so everything within it, including his heart, have temporarily been frozen in time.'_

For the first time since the entire ordeal began, a spark of hope lit within Oz's eyes when understanding dawned to him.

"But that means _I_ have time..." he whispered.

_'Yes, but it's not unlimited. Eventually the barrier will weaken and die altogether without us to sustain it. So hurry. Go to the city, explain the situation and get some help, maybe even a doctor if you can. But as soon as they're near, I need you to run ahead so that I can remove the barrier, or else they'll come under its influence if they're within its range.'_

"But then... What about Gilbert?"

_'I could continue to keep only him frozen in time since we'll be near him, but we can't risk anyone noticing your eyes or the tattoo, nor am I going to risk draining too much of your energy since you're not exactly brimming full of it at the moment. So, after that his time is limited, but he'll have just enough to make it.'_

Oz nodded again, not really trusting his voice at the moment. The unbelievable power B-Rabbit was already displaying rendered him speechless and the weight of the life that was now on his shoulders made his mouth dry up from nervousness. B-Rabbit had done all she could. She had provided him with time, just as Oz had wished. But now the rest was up to him.

With one last glance towards the man frozen in time, Oz broke into a sprint. His speed increased further due to the downward slope of the hill so hopefully it would help him make up for the time lost later in the upward climb.

Time...

Oz had honestly been sceptical. He thought that he was hearing things at first; that his mind was playing tricks on him to prevent him from slipping into insanity due to guilt and grief. But then B-Rabbit actually showed herself, and certainly the painful possession process that followed was no dream. After that Oz wondered if B-Rabbit could really control time, but his doubts were cleared once again when she shared the memories she gained while in control of his body after her mind subsided.

Despite all that had happened, despite all that was going to happen, Oz somehow managed a small smile.

"B-Rabbit?" he called.

_'What is it, boy?'_

"Oh, that's right; you don't know my name yet, do you? You can call me Oz, if you want," he corrected.

_'Is that all you had to say... Oz?'_

"No," admitted Oz. "What I wanted to say was... Thank you, for everything you're doing."

B-Rabbit was silent for a long time, unbeknown to Oz, due to astonishment. During her time in the Realm of Darkness, she would sometimes hear stories about the Realm of Mortals. She learned that a Contract with a human was simply an agreement where both parties would gain something from each other, and that in effect it was simply a regulator on how much they used each other. And because it was usually established that they were using each other, words of thanks were very, very rare. It was only those fools who were deceived into believing otherwise that used such words.

So why on earth had this boy said it even though he knew he was being used?

She just couldn't seem to think of an answer, except maybe...

No, it couldn't be... Was he...

 _"...I don't want to be so_ worthless _anymore..."_

Was this boy _thanking_ her for _using_ him?

At the end, she wasn't truly sure. But after some time, she echoed a thought.

_'...You're a strange boy, you know that?'_


	5. Chapter 4: Conflict

It was strange.

When Oz had dropped to his knees earlier in front of Gilbert, who had just been slashed across the chest, the first thing that came across the latter's mind was, _"I have to warn him,"_ and not, _"I have to get out of here."_

So although the fire had, by then, made its presence well-known, he had warned Oz who _apparently_ _hadn't_ noticed somehow without a second thought. But that idiot refused to move, opting to instead waste precious time by staring at him with a look of pure bewilderment as though Gilbert was speaking gibberish. That was when a frustrated Gilbert thought, _"I need to save him,"_ and not, _"I want to kill him!"_

In that instant, the idea to jump came to him almost automatically, as though saving the boy was simply a reflex.

And he found that strange. Nevertheless, he told himself that there'd be time to ponder over it later.

Gilbert knew exactly what the dangers of his decision to jump were considering his condition at the time. To sum it up in a nice little nutshell, the only outcome would have been death, or if one was _very_ lucky, then at least a state near it. But Gilbert was fairly confident that he would not die so when memories of the fight with Oz and the leap out the window had returned to him right after he regained consciousness, he expected to see a black, starry sky overhead when he opened his eyes. Instead, he found himself staring at a dark ceiling. Also, he was confused to find himself feeling somewhat better than he probably should, as well as a bed beneath him.

 _"...A hospital..."_ he realised after some time. " _I can even smell the disinfectant."_

Tentatively, he tried to sit up but instantly regretted it when he felt sharp pain from his chest that made his breath catch in his throat when he tried to inhale. It suffocated him for a few seconds before he forced himself to slowly release a shuddering breath. Once the pain subsided and his breathing regulated somewhat, Gilbert looked down to find that his shirt and coat were gone. Instead, his bare torso was heavily bandaged and there was a long but faint stain of blood running across it from his shoulder to his waist. He also noticed his right forearm was wrapped up as well so he carefully tried to move it, realising from the pain that it must've been sprained.

After a while he shoved the blanket away and shifted to move his legs over the edge of the bed which was when he felt something digging into his hip. When he reached down, he realised it was his gun that miraculously must've gone unnoticed by the hospital staff in their haste to patch him up.

_"What happened after that...? And what happened to the kid?"_

The single ward room was dark; the only light source was the strong moonlight pouring through the window to his right. Next to the window in between the wall and the bed was a single armchair, and Gilbert was absolutely surprised to find a small, hunched up figure on it. Squinting slightly, he leaned forward until, with a start, he realised that it was _Oz_.

Oz had his knees drawn up and his arms wrapped around his legs while his head was bent, resting atop his knees. He seemed to be wearing the same clothes from the ceremony, only his jacket and gloves were missing. Despite the lack of sufficient lighting, Gilbert did not fail to notice bloodstains on his dark-grey dress shirt and briefly wondered if it was his own or Oz's. His left sleeve was rolled up and Gilbert spotted a thin layer of gauze wrapped around the upper arm, most likely where he had slashed him during their duel.

For a fleeting moment Gilbert felt something akin to relief at seeing the teen there, alive. It was not every day when he jumped out of a window to escape a burning building while suffering from the effects of severe blood loss, just to save someone _else_ on reflex. No, Gilbert certainly did not often do things out of the ordinary like that, so it would have made him more than just a little irritated if he went through all that trouble saving Oz, only for him to have died anyway.

But then, his relief quickly dissolved only to be replaced by anger as he realised something.

There would never have been a more perfect opportunity for the young noble to have Gilbert locked up for attempting to murder _him_ , the heir to one of the Four Great Dukedoms. Yet here he was, receiving first-class treatment that he certainly _did not_ deserve instead. In fact, he didn't expect to be 'saved' at all. The boy could've left him there to die. He had no reason not to, nor did he have any reason for being with Gilbert at that very moment in that room. But the fact that he _was_ here meant he had something to do with all this.

That brat had saved him somehow. He had saved the man who tried to kill him. And now that naive fool was still...

"Hey... Are you awake?" called Gilbert quietly.

At first there was no response, but in a matter of seconds Oz slowly raised his head and rubbed his eyes, before blinking the sleep out of them. But when he noticed that Gilbert was up and awake, the sleep instantly vanished and he smiled, albeit a bit wearily, while lowering his legs to hang off the edge of the chair.

"Oh, you're alive! Thank goodness," said Oz a little breathlessly, releasing a sigh of relief at the same time. "The doctor was starting to get worried since it was the third night. They found it strange how you even managed to survive after losing so much blood and fracturing two ribs, and then he was sceptical that you'd wake up at all. But I knew you would," he finished with another smile. "How are you feeling?"

Gilbert didn't answer. He simply glared at Oz, whose smile faltered when he was met with the older man’s silence.

"Gilbert...? Are you alright? Should I go call the doctor?"

Suddenly a hand darted out to fist his shirt and Oz was yanked forward right out of the chair. He flailed his arms helplessly in a vain attempt to remain balanced, but the force that Gilbert used made him land heavily between his legs. His palms slammed against the mattress edge and he braced one knee against the ground to prevent him from colliding with Gilbert's injured chest, which was just inches away from his face.

"Why?!" shouted Gilbert, startling Oz greatly. "Why are you here?!"

Oz blinked, unsure of what to say or why Gilbert was so angry. "Th-that's because... I... You nearly died, s-so I-"

Gilbert cut him off by roughly shaking him once. "I wouldn't have died, dammit! And I tried to _kill_ _you_ , so _why_?! Why did you try to save me? Are you an idiot?!"

He continued to glare furiously at Oz, who had looked away as soon as Gilbert began his outburst.

"I... I just didn't want to see anyone else die..." muttered Oz, before forcing himself to meet the raven-haired man's gaze at last.

It was only then when Gilbert noticed the utter lack of lustre that had been present in Oz's emerald eyes before. They were now darker in shade and disturbingly vacant, and combined with the dark bags below his eyes it made him look almost like some mindless zombie.

_"But... He was smiling just now. And he seemed perfectly fine. So now why is he-"_

And then it hit him.

_"A... Mask?"_

Upon realising this and after taking in Oz' condition, Gilbert faltered. After a moment, he slowly let go of his shirt. Oz sunk down onto both knees with his head hung, and his hands resting limply by his sides.

"What... happened?" asked Gilbert, calming down a bit.

Oz remained silent for a while, trying to find the right words to answer Gilbert's question.

"...Nearly the entire Estate has been destroyed by those people that interrupted the ceremony. But that's not all. An investigation was done to see who the casualties and survivors were but... Apart from us, everyone else died. The guests, the musicians, the guards, the servants... _Everyone_ , including my..."

_"What did you do with my father?!"_

"...Father..."

Gilbert didn't even notice his eyes widen in shock or the silent gasp that escaped his lips, for he was absolutely stunned. _Everyone_? Not a _single_ person from that estate managed to escape alive? But... How was that possible? There were just three figures up against an entire hall that had capable people among the rest of the crowd, not to mention the Vessalius guards. Surely the majority had the advantage of numbers?

But then, the real shock hit him.

Those had all been _innocent_ _people_ that had died. Wasn't it always his aim not to let outsiders get harmed during his missions? And yet...

Gilbert had seen them. He could guess what they were going to do. But he had ignored them.

He had let the most important thing out of his sight.

"There's more..." said Oz quietly while fisting the covers. "My little sister... They couldn't find any..." he paused to swallow thickly. "B-body... Implying that she probably hadn't been there when the mansion burned down. She would've gone straight to the city if she escaped but no one's seen her. That means that _those_ people must have taken her."

Oz looked up at Gilbert with wide, panicked eyes. "What would they want with her? Why couldn't they have taken me instead? As the heir I would've made a better hostage... Oh God, what if they didn't want a hostage?! What if-"

"Oh, be quiet for a second, will you?!" snapped Gilbert. Oz flinched, but remained obediently quiet.

It's not that Gilbert was mad at Oz. The boy had the right to be worried. After all, the girl seemed to be the only remaining family he had and in a way it was more painful knowing that the only person left was out there, but out of your grasp. No, he simply didn't know how to handle such situations. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say.

_"Within a matter of minutes, he lost everyone around him. Despite that, he tried to save me. He's still here. He's still sane... How can he be a Contractor? It just doesn't add up..."_

"...Hey, I want to ask you something. Answer me truthfully."

Oz simply nodded, not really caring about what he was going to be asked.

"Do you happen to know what a 'Contractor' is?"

And despite his earlier nonchalance, Oz couldn't stop himself from stiffening. "C-Contractor?"

Gilbert's sharp senses noticed the way he suddenly tensed as well as the slight stutter, and his eyes narrowed by a fraction.

Classic nervous behaviour. He pressed on.

"Yes, Contractor. It's someone who makes a Contract with a creature called an 'Abyss', that are said to be able to grant wishes."

Oz averted his gaze and remained silent, unsure of what to say or where this was going.

"...You're hiding something," stated Gilbert, while staring at Oz with scrutinising eyes.

So Oz really _was_ a Contractor like the Nightrays had said. Gilbert's doubts had been meaningless from the start.

But then... why weren't they going away?

Oz shook his head in denial, but he was brought to an abrupt halt when he felt the icy cold metal of a gun barrel pressed beneath his chin, forcing him to tilt his head up and stare Gilbert in the eyes.

"I wasn't able to finish my job earlier," said Gilbert coolly, "but I won't fail twice. You're the rogue Contractor that's been murdering innocent people lately, and now you shall pay for those sins with your life."

"What?!" cried Oz in disbelief. "No! Listen, I-"

Oz stopped speaking abruptly when all of a sudden, his wide eyes turned from green to crimson as a tattoo appeared under his left eye. When it completed materialising, he grabbed the barrel and shoved the gun away before glaring heatedly at Gilbert.

"Don't you _dare_ point your weapon at _me_ , human!" thundered B-Rabbit. "You've got the wrong person. This boy is not the Contractor who you're looking for."

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Oh? And I suppose I'm talking to his split personality, then?"

B-Rabbit grit her teeth. This was her first time talking to him directly yet she was already starting to hate this floppy-haired man with a fiery passion. "Listen, _seaweed head_ , I made a Contract with this boy just recently and he did it _only_ to save _your_ pathetic existence. Before that this boy was nothing more than that; a mere boy."

Gilbert considered its words, but his facial expression wasn't exactly one of understanding. It had to be lying, because the Nightrays had seen the boy himself...

"...I don't believe you," he said at last, though it didn't come out as firm as he wanted it to.

B-Rabbit raised an eyebrow. "If he really _had_ made a Contract with me from the start then I would have ripped you to shreds during that sad excuse of a duel. And before you point it out, of course I know about it. I gained access to all his memories once we formed the Contract."

Gilbert, upon hearing her first statement, looked unimpressed. "Oh really?"

However, he realised deep down that the Abyss _did_ have a point once he actually thought about it... But he would never admit that, _especially_ to _this_ infuriatingly arrogant creature.

B-Rabbit smirked and snapped her fingers, after which Gilbert felt everything around him freeze, including himself. It was a strange sensation if one could call it that, not being able – or needing – to breathe, or move a single muscle. He couldn't even move his eyes. But the strangest part was how his mind was still functioning, picking up and processing the sounds and movements of the boy in front of him. That too was a mystery. How was _he_ able to move with perfect ease, clearly unaffected by this strange phenomenon? Unless...

The possessed Oz slowly got back up onto his feet before bending over with his hands resting on his knees, leaning forward to whisper menacingly into Gilbert's ear.

"Time flows according to my will, fool, for I am B-Rabbit, the Abyss of Time. I could've easily killed you within the blink of an eye if this boy really _had_ made a Contract with me back then, because what kind of an idiot would let their salvation die? However, I saved you with my powers instead because that was Oz's wish."

B-Rabbit straightened to meet Gilbert's gaze but upon seeing his frozen, wide-eyed expression of astonishment, she couldn't help but snicker in amusement. Then, she slid onto the bed while steadying herself with a hand on his shoulder, straddling him with her knees on either side of his hips for the sole purpose of making him feel uncomfortably trapped. With her other hand, she began stroking his hair as though he were a pet.

"Oh, you silly human..." lilted B-Rabbit in a quiet, breathless murmur while she combed her fingers through his silky, wavy hair for a bit, but after a while she grabbed several locks and abruptly jerked his head back so that he was forced to look up and into her eyes.

"I could've killed you then," she repeated in a quiet mutter, tightening her grip almost as though to emphasise her point. "It would've been too easy. But I didn't, because I'll grant the wish requested from me even if it's against my personal desires. However..." B-Rabbit leaned forward to whisper darkly into Gilbert's ear again. "If you still insist on harming the boy then I _will_ get rid of you, one way or another. Mark my words."

She raised her head while letting go of Gilbert's hair simultaneously before snapping her fingers once more, after which time resumed at its normal pace. Gilbert immediately glared daggers at the detestable _thing_ before him while gingerly rubbing his slightly stinging scalp. "Why the hell are you so obsessed with this brat anyway?" he snapped.

B-Rabbit grinned in delight in an almost childlike manner, so it nearly looked like an ordinary sight had it not been for the predatory look in her gleaming crimson eyes, or the way her vertically long, narrow, black devilish pupils dilated noticeably.

"He's no _ordinary_ brat. He's the perfect vessel. His body is young but his mind is strong. And in two or three years he'll easily be able to accommodate the full extent of my powers. In all my life there hasn't been anyone that was able to host me. But now, not only have I found someone capable, I also sense great potential from him. That's why I must make sure he lives."

Gilbert sighed in frustration.

It was _one_ job. _One little_ _job_. Kill the kid and walk away. And yet here he was, facing all these complications that weren't included in his job description.

"I still have a job to do," declared Gilbert. "He may not have been a Contractor before, but he is now. They'll use that excuse against him." Then, "And get the hell off me already, you stupid rabbit! If someone walks in here they're seriously going to get the wrong idea."

B-Rabbit rolled her eyes, clearly indicating to Gilbert that she believed his worries to be utterly stupid. Nevertheless, she slid off from his lap and stood before him instead, before continuing the conversation.

"That's not your problem, is it? You're only paid to kill him if he was _the_ Contractor that murdered all those people. He's not, and I'm sure your job didn't cover him being just a regular Contractor. So you have no right or reason to kill him."

Gilbert remained silent. It was a logical argument, after all. Despite the nature of the jobs they selected him for, he and the Nightrays had signed a proper contract so 'legally', that argument would suffice... At a stretch.

"Besides, you didn't even _want_ to kill him in the first place, did you?"

Gilbert froze.

_“...What...?”_

And then something clicked into place.

It all made sense now, even the reason why he felt inclined to save Oz on reflex. This whole time, that strange feeling he would always get when thinking about killing Oz was just _unwillingness_. And now that he knew the truth, it also occurred to him why that feeling had plagued him. It was simply because over the years, Gilbert had developed another skill after being in the presence of an uncountable number of corrupt people and that was the ability to sense whether or not someone was innocent. The only reason why he hadn't realised it before was because he had never been in the position where he had to kill a guiltless person until now. So although his mind had been ordering him to kill, his subconscious mind had been trying to tell him otherwise.

...And how did the _stupid rabbit_ even know that when Gilbert had only just realised it himself?

B-Rabbit smirked, knowing full-well what the man in front of her was thinking.

"It's painfully obvious, you know. Your performance during that fight was appalling. Something was clearly holding you back, even if you didn’t realize it yourself. Look at what he managed to do to you!" she exclaimed, while pointing accusingly at his chest with a look of disapproval. "Even your movements were affected which is why you've ended up like this. Pathetic," she scoffed.

After a brief pause she added, "But the thing that gave it away was when you saved him despite your condition. If you had left him there and saved yourself, your 'job' would've been complete, wouldn't it?"

Gilbert shot an irritated look at B-Rabbit's direction, choosing not to respond to all those surprisingly (and annoyingly) accurate-sounding claims. Instead, he began to contemplate over everything that had happened so far.

Technically B-Rabbit had been right earlier. The Nightrays originally wanted to murder Oz for revenge, using the fact that the boy was the Contractor behind the recent murders as defence. But as the even more recent events had proven, he wasn't. That made Oz innocent, meaning that Gilbert had no right or reason to kill him, just like B-Rabbit had said. The fact that he was a Contractor _now_ was not really his concern (even though it _was_ technically because of him, added his mind a tad bit unnecessarily...), unless the boy really did become a nuisance and Gilbert was hired to kill him later on. But that was an unlikely scenario.

Gilbert scowled deeply.

He had realised that something was off about this job from the start, but how utterly stupid of him not to notice it earlier.

No. It's not that he hadn't noticed; he simply refused to acknowledge all the signs...

The entire thing was a set-up. The Nightrays had probably been desperate for an excuse to kill the boy and must've decided to blame the recent murders on him, knowing that once Gilbert was set out to kill, he never hesitated to pull the trigger. And that meant Oz wouldn't have time to explain himself.

_"Those bastards took advantage of my nature..."_

But if they thought they knew him well by now, then _oh_ , how wrong they were. Gilbert would personally see to it that they became aware of that fact.

The whole thing about their man swearing an oath was total nonsense too, because anyone would be willing to sell their soul if you paid them the right price, and anyway, all Gilbert had was their worthless words that the witness really saw what he did. He had gotten so accustomed to working for them that he didn't even bother conducting his own investigations anymore.

But those murders... Was it just a coincidence? Or were the Nightrays behind that too?

_"If only there was a way to detect whether someone was a Contractor..."_

Gilbert found his gaze drawn to B-Rabbit at that thought, who didn't fail to notice his thoughtful expression.

"What?"

"...Nothing, just... Shouldn't your kind be able to sense if there are others like you around?"

The answer was probably no, but then again, he couldn't trust himself to be sure... And he didn't really want to resort to asking this creature for any sort of assistance but it was worth a shot, because he _really_ wanted to sort this mess out as soon as possible and move on with his miserable life.

B-Rabbit blinked, not having expected such a question. "Actually, some of us can. It's usually the stronger ones like me, who actually bother exploring the extent of our powers. Naturally it becomes harder to sense them the further away they are. Also, just like how we can detect others, we can also conceal our own presence so it'll be impossible to detect an Abyss in that state."

She had been about to ask why, but after some time she managed to reach the same conclusion as Gilbert and began laughing haughtily in a way that made him want to strangle the damn creature.

"Unbelievable!" she exclaimed when her amusement faded, though the smirk never left her face. "How stupid do you have to be to fall for such an obvious trick? I bet you accepted their task without even asking for solid proof, didn't you?"

And before Gilbert could even open his mouth to retort, she delivered the final blow.

"You sure you're not losing your edge, old man?"

"Go to hell!" barked Gilbert, whose complexion had turned flaming red from anger.

Deep inside though, he was a shocked. Though he'd never, ever admit it, B-Rabbit was... right. Since when did he become so trusting, especially towards the aristocrat? Simply because they had been his regular clients, he had let his guard down and assumed that some silly form of understanding had developed between them.

But never again.

Then, as an afterthought he added, "And I'm only twenty-four, you stupid rabbit! _You_ , on the other hand, are probably old enough to be my grandmo-"

B-Rabbit cut him off. " _Don't_ even go there. I may be an Abyss but I just happen to be a female one. And all females _hate_ age jabs."

Now it was Gilbert's turn to smirk, albeit very faintly. "Sorry, but did you honestly think I would give a fuck?"

Hundreds of different colourful insults sprang within her mind but B-Rabbit wisely decided not to respond, since she couldn't waste her time with verbal sparring ( _next time_ , she promised herself). Every minute she spent in control of Oz put strain on his mind and body after all. Instead, B-Rabbit closed her eyes and focused for a few minutes. That was when Gilbert realised, with mild apprehension, what she was trying to do and remained silent.

After some time, she opened them again and stared at Gilbert. "I sense three. The first one is down south, quite far from here, so it was hard to detect at first. I don't think it's who you're looking for though; seems to be well outside the city."

"Could be, but it's probably not," agreed Gilbert. "What about the second one?"

"Close to the outskirts of the city... But it's travelling north."

_"North... Strange, but that can't be it. North is headed towards the forbidden territories. That just leaves..."_

"And... The third...?"

"North-east from here, again, near the outskirts of the city. That makes it the closest out of all three."

"North-east..." muttered Gilbert. "So if we're currently at the hospital, then north-east should be..."

After some deep thought, Gilbert frowned. _"I thought so. It's Nightray territory."_

Then he turned to B-Rabbit and regarded her for a while. "...Are you sure there are no others?"

"What?"

"What do you _think_?" he snapped exasperatedly.

B-Rabbit huffed irritably and folded her arms. "What do _you_ think? I would've told you if there were. There might be more, but they're either out of range or have concealed. So no, there aren't any more at the moment."

"...I see..."

_"If it's exactly as she says then once again, I might've spotted another anomaly... But I don't have time for that right now."_

Gilbert abruptly stood up, wincing at the sharp pain shooting from his chest. But apart from that, his legs seemed to be somewhat functional, thankfully. He then holstered his gun and looked around for something he could wear over his bandaged chest.

_"It really is them. One of their own people is a Contractor. The entire thing is an elaborate set up, and they've made a fool of me this whole time. Now they're going to pay for it with their lives..."_

"Where are you going?" asked B-Rabbit.

"Out," he answered simply.

"What about the boy?"

Gilbert momentarily paused.

Indeed, there was the matter of Oz. The boy _did_ risk his life to save Gilbert's, so in return he guessed it was alright to let him off the hook. Not that it was even a matter of question anymore, now that Gilbert had learned the truth. Oz had been perfectly innocent from the start...

 _He won't be anymore because of you,_ reminded his brain unnecessarily. But Gilbert simply ignored it.

Because what was he supposed to do about it? What _could_ he do about it?

Nothing...

"Fine," declared Gilbert after some time. "I'll spare the boy. He's no longer my concern anyway."

"So what are you going to do now?"

Gilbert clicked his tongue in irritation and spun around. "You're so annoying! Does it matter? I already said I'd leave him alone, didn't I? Now leave _me_ alone."

B-Rabbit grumbled unintelligibly before muttering something that suspiciously sounded like, "Can't even respect his elders", after which she said, in a louder voice, "Mm, fine then... Maybe I'll go to sleep..."

Gilbert was about to point out that the correct phrase she was looking for should sound something along the lines of, _"Maybe I'll get lost and let my Contractor rest since I wasted a lot of his precious energy to sustain my completely unimportant existence,"_ and definitely not, _"I should get some sleep"_. But the words died at his lips when he witnessed the transition of Oz's eyes from red to green while the tattoo vanished the same way it appeared.

After that his eyelids slid to a close as he began to fall back, but Gilbert managed to reach out and grab Oz's arm just in time before pulling him in and resting his other arm behind the boy’s waist, preventing him from falling back.

_"Unconscious...?"_

When Oz's eyes didn't re-open, Gilbert's suspicions were confirmed. So, he shifted the hand clutching Oz's waist up to his opposite shoulder and steered the boy to his bed.

_"Actually, this makes things easier. He'd probably pester me with questions if he was awake."_

Once Oz was resting peacefully in place of Gilbert under the hospital blankets, the latter decided that he wasn't going to find any article of clothing where he was and it wasn't as though there would be anyone up this late to see a shirtless, injured man limping down the streets on a frosty night. So, he resolved to stop by his apartment first for a change of clothes while approaching the window.

 _"I hope this isn't going to become a habit,"_ he thought with a grimace.

As anticipated, the distance from his window to the ground wasn't much at all since his ward room was on the ground floor, so a hop from that height would be nothing for him. With his escape route secure, he checked through the room one last time in case any of his possessions were lying around. Upon finding nothing, he quietly lifted the window, paused briefly to take in the fresh, disinfectant-free air and slipped out into the cold, motionless night.

_"Time to take care of some business."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Put Gilbert and 'B-Rabbit' in a room and it won't be long before verbal sparring to some degree ensues, otherwise it just wouldn't be Pandora Hearts. Don't you agree? :)


	6. Chapter 5: Confrontations

When Oz woke up the next morning, he found himself feeling... strangely refreshed. It was strange because over the past three days, sleep came to him rarely and thus, exhaustion weighed heavy upon him even when he _did_ somehow get some rest. So feeling like anything other than a train wreck was the last thing he expected to feel when it occurred to him that he had fallen asleep again, once his bleary eyes noticed his dimly lit surroundings.

As soon as they had arrived at the hospital, Oz had been whisked away from Gilbert's side by a young, blue-eyed nurse. He then became a patient himself and was attended to by several well-trained nurses and a doctor just as experienced as the one treating Gilbert. It was unnecessary really, since miraculously he had nothing more than a minor sprain, several cuts and bruises, but he was far too distracted to protest.

Then, during the rest of the day, his patience was heavily tested while he paced back and forth in front of the operation room Gilbert was in, waiting for the final verdict on his condition. At that time, the only though his mind could conceive was, _"What if I was too late?"_ The thought made him turn cold and heavy, as though the implications of such a thought had already settled itself upon his conscience.

Eventually his mind's frantic restlessness combined with his relentless pacing and lack of rest had an adverse effect on him, though he didn't realise it until the view of his feet suddenly turned black for a moment. And when his vision cleared he found himself staring _up_ at the blue-eyed nurse from earlier, who was asking if he was alright.

The nurse had helped him up off the floor and led him towards the wards where he was given his own room and requested to stay put and rest, before being told that it won't be long before they learned of Gilbert's condition. Realising that he was probably being a bother, Oz did as he was told and indeed, some time later, another nurse came to inform him that Gilbert's condition was stable. However, he would be monitored overnight, and if all was well then he would be moved into the room next to Oz's in the morning.

The relief he felt after hearing those words had been so great that it literally felt as though a weight had been lifted from his chest. And that weight was the possibility of him having become a murderer.

On the second day, Gilbert had been moved into the room next door at noon – a good sign. But then some time later, a man claiming to have been sent by the authorities as their representative arrived and he brought with him grave news that confirmed Oz's fears. Apart from him and the guest pianist invited from another town – which Oz eventually realised was Gilbert's false identity – no other survivors had been found at the site of the accident, and not a single family of any of the guests were able to report that their family member had arrived home at all. And as though that hadn't been bad enough, the man also brought the shocking revelation that the body of his sister was the only one that could not be found, implying the possibility that she had been kidnapped.

When he was met with nothing but Oz's silence, the man reassured Oz that their investigation was far from over and that his sister would surely be found, before taking his leave while promising to return when a new development occurred.

He didn't return after that.

After learning about the true extent of the damage caused by those mysterious intruders, it was as though Oz's mind had completely shut down from shock. Unable – or rather, unwilling – to fully comprehend the gravity of the situation, Oz spent the rest of the second and third day in Gilbert's room, doing nothing but watch the man sleep while his mind mostly remained blank. Sometimes a nurse or doctor would try to coax him into going back to the ward they had designated to him to rest and eat something. However, Oz politely declined each time with a plastic smile.

It was silly, he knew, but... He just didn't want to be alone. That's why he'd prefer to be in the presence of an unconscious man that tried to kill him rather than be by himself in a large, lonely hospital ward. He was probably going to be on his own from now on anyway, so even if it was Gilbert, he wanted to enjoy somewhat familiar human company for a little longer. With that thought, Oz temporarily made up his mind to see Gilbert recover with his own eyes while using the time to sort out his thoughts.

Just the other night he had been ready to give up on life, convinced that he was the flesh-and-blood equivalent of uselessness. But then Gilbert had saved him. _Why?_ Why did he save him? Oz couldn't understand even now because only two possibilities came to mind. Either the man wasn't in his right senses at the time, or... perhaps he had simply done out of reflex.

But... In that situation, and for someone like him, wasn't 'reflex' supposed to be 'save yourself'?

And that's why he didn't understand, because neither explanation really made any sense.

So Oz thought about it some more, until he reached another conclusion that seemed more plausible than the other two. What if he did it so that he could see Oz die with his own eyes? Perhaps Gilbert had assumed that Oz would've survived somehow even if he left him there in the burning building and saved himself? Maybe the people who sent him to kill Oz made a strict condition that Gilbert was to bring back proof of his death? In that case it would probably be a body... But if Gilbert had left him, since he would have to treat his wounds first before he was in any condition of carrying a dead weight, the authorities would've arrived, preventing him to return to the scene of the crime and thus, collecting any evidence of his kill.

Which was why, Gilbert probably saved Oz out of duty. He must've assumed that by saving himself and Oz, he could personally kill the boy after kidnapping him. However, his plan must've failed because he lost consciousness...

No. Wrong. _Completely_ wrong. That made absolutely _no_ sense whatsoever. Oz would definitely have died because of the roof. Gilbert wasn't an idiot, he was probably aware of it. And something like proof wouldn't have been an issue, because what are the odds that Oz survived when no one else did?

That was when Oz simply stopped thinking about it altogether, because all of it was starting to give him a big headache.

After that, the question was what now?

It was such a simple question. So simple. Too simple to fully encompass the scope of its answer. But his mind provided him nothing for an answer. No matter how he looked at it, Oz couldn't see any way out of this mess. He couldn't see the logic in the situation. He couldn't think straight. He didn't know what to do _._

Those were the kind of frustrating thoughts that had plagued him when his mind wasn't blank, so by night, Oz would be mentally exhausted. His mind screamed for him to sleep but whenever he tried, nightmares would haunt him. He saw faces of those who he would never see again, as well as nauseating images of the destruction caused by _those people_ and horrible visions of his sister being tortured by faceless figures. Eventually he gave up on sleeping altogether and spent the nights by Gilbert's side as well, where he could at least busy himself by focusing his attention on the older man, or more specifically, for any sign that he was in pain or if he was going to wake up.

And then, the third night came. Gilbert had woken up, hadn't he? That's right, after that he was angry at Oz for some reason. Something to do with Contractors and Abysses. Then he pulled out a gun, and then...

...Then what?

Oz sat up, noticing that he was on a bed. At first he thought an attendant or even Gilbert might've carried him back to his own ward room, but then he spotted subtle differences, like how this room seemed to have more medical tools and medicine crammed in it, or how the window had been left wide open, and even the very faint blood stains on the sheets.

...Was he on Gilbert's bed? Where was the man, if that was the case?

He heard B-Rabbit's voice in his head at that point.

_'Oz, you're finally awake. How're you feeling?'_

"B-Rabbit!" gasped Oz. His mild surprise was due to the fact that she had barely spoken a word to him over the past three days, so he had actually forgotten about her presence. "Where's Gilbert? What happened last night?"

There was a long pause, before she quietly said, _'...Glad to see you've recovered enough energy to speak again.'_

And at that point, realisation and guilt both hit Oz like a brick.

Oh... He was truly and idiot, wasn't he?

The reason why he hadn't heard much from B-Rabbit was probably because she had sensed his grief and exhaustion, both physical and mental. In fact, it was highly possible that Oz's condition had affected her equally, if not more than him as well, since she was now practically a part of him. Knowing his pain, she had been concerned about him all this time and politely remained quiet. But what did Oz do just now?

"...I'm very sorry," mumbled Oz, before pausing to take a deep breath. "Thank you for asking, really. I'm... I'm a bit better," he said with a faint smile, even though she probably couldn't see it.

_'...I-it's not like I was asking because I was concerned, you fool. I was merely trying to verify that my vessel was in usable condition again. That's all.'_

Before Oz could, B-Rabbit added, _'Anyway, you wanted to know about what happened last night, didn't you?'_

"A-ah, yes, I did. I remember everything up until the point when he took out his gun..."

A thought suddenly occurred to Oz. _"...Wait... Why am I not dead...?"_

_'You don't remember anything after that because I took over your body at that point...'_

Then B-Rabbit retold the events of the previous night, while sharing some of her memories for further clarity (and although she mentioned proving her existence to Gilbert by stopping time, she omitted the part where she had practically straddled him and whispered death threats into his ear; the boy didn't need to know any of that).

She told him how she had argued with Gilbert over Oz's innocence, telling him that she hadn't made a contract with him until recently, but when the man remained stubborn, she stopped time to prove her point. Then he questioned her on why she was so keen about Oz, after which he went back to square one and said that he had to kill Oz out of duty. B-Rabbit pointed out how his 'duty' was technically invalid, before putting an end to the argument once and for all.

_"Besides, you didn't even want to kill him in the first place, did you?"_

It was at that point when Oz froze from shock. And his astonishment simply grew when he saw Gilbert's expressions in his mind's eye, heard B-Rabbit pointing out each and every one of the flaws in his behaviour, and witnessed the man's accepting silence afterwards which was when B-Rabbit halted her account, sensing her Contractor's sudden change of mood and burst of mental activity.

This _whole_ time...

He didn't _want_ to...?

But... But that meant...!

 _"He..._ Wanted _to save me...?"_

No! That... That didn't make sense! He was a killer! Where was the logic in-?

Oz's eyes widened.

_'...Oz...? What-'_

But she was interrupted by a hesitant knock on the door, followed by a young, timid looking brunette nurse entering the room. Oz hadn't registered the knocking but he did notice the sound of the door closing behind her, which was when he snapped out of whatever daze he was in and abruptly looked up.

"O-oh, you're awake. Um, you wouldn't happen to know where the patient of this room has gone... Would you?"

Oz shook his head, before the tone of worry in her voice registered to him. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

The nurse bit her lip. "...Well, the doctor came in earlier this morning to do his rounds but instead of the patient, we found you. We thought he might have gone out to wander around, but none of the day staff saw him at all and we can't seem to find him anywhere."

Oz took a moment to process the implications of this information, before he gasped in realisation. "Wait... Then, that means..."

The nurse nodded. "He must've left in the middle of the night, though strangely, none of the night staff reported him leaving either. Since you were in his bed, we thought he might've told you something but it seems that we were wrong... I have to report this to the doctor immediately. Please excuse me."

After she left, Oz immediately called out to B-Rabbit.

"Do you know where he went?"

 _'I... only have a rough idea,'_ she admitted.

The Abyss resumed with her account and as soon as she began, a bad feeling within Oz started to develop and grow when Gilbert had asked B-Rabbit whether or not she was able to detect other Abysses. It was as though he knew exactly what Gilbert intended to do without having reached the end of B-Rabbit's account. And when she did finish, his suspicions were confirmed.

_"The hospital staff didn't see him because he must've sneaked out from that open window. And now he plans on taking revenge... But he's still badly injured! He'll be killed at this rate... I have to do something."_

"B-Rabbit!"

She sighed. _'Don't say it. You want to save him, don't you?'_

Oz was already making his way towards the door with a look of solid determination. "We're really starting to understand one another, aren't we?" he muttered.

 _"I know it's not really my place to get involved anymore, but I can't just feign ignorance when I know he's going to get killed. How can I possibly live with myself knowing that I let my saviour die when I could've prevented it? And I know for a fact that I_ can _prevent it... because I am no longer as useless as I once was. I have power now. I have B-Rabbit."_

_'Stop!'_

Oz halted in his footsteps when he felt a sharp pain next to his heart. He leaned heavily against the wall for support while clutching his chest with one hand, face contorting in a grimace of pain.

"B-Rabbit... what are you... doing?!" he rasped.

His eyes began to fade from green, to red, then back to green and the cycle repeated itself as B-Rabbit tried to take over Oz's body. However, Oz was stubbornly resisting. But at last B-Rabbit won the battle for control and screamed in frustration as soon as she did so.

"Why do you go so far for that man?! He tried to kill you, idiot! I can't risk having you involved with him any further, do you understand? He's _dangerous!_ "

That was all she had time to say because she felt Oz's presence overwhelm hers, and unbelievably he managed to resurface while sending her back to the depths of his mind. Oz took a moment to steady himself, after which he spoke calmly to B-Rabbit.

"Next time, I don't want you possessing me without permission," he said, but although his voice was low, the anger in it was unmistakable and the danger behind ignoring his warning did not go unheeded by B-Rabbit. "Don't forget that you require my body for your own needs, whatever they may be. And you said it yourself, didn't you? That no one else could form a Contract with you before in the past. That's why, since this is still my body at the end of the day, _I_ decide what I want to do with it."

 _"...All this time I've restricted myself by trying to find the logic in everything I don't understand. But I've forgotten one important thing... Take one step back, and you realise that there's_ nothing _logical about this situation. It was Gilbert who made me realise this, by defying the logical course set out for him and choosing to save me. Now he's going to kill the people who betrayed him. And he's doing all this because he's a human being. A human being who does what he wants, because that is the nature of humans. I was wrong for trying to judge his actions as a killer..."_

_'...Is that a threat, boy?'_

B-Rabbit was more than a little surprised at Oz's outburst, but what was more surprising was the fact that she quietly let it slide. The boy was right, after all. She needed him more than he probably needed her now that his initial wish had been granted; therefore, making him angry wasn't exactly advisable especially since he had already devalued his own life before. With no crystal-clear reason to live anymore, the last thing she wanted to do was let him recklessly exploit that fact.

"You can think of it as whatever you want. But I _will_ save Gilbert, with or without your help. Besides, we didn't save him that time just so he could go and get himself killed, did we?"

_"I can't sit around moping here forever. Nothing's stopping him from doing what he really wants to do. So why can't I be the same? He gave me a second chance at life. And I don't have any idea what the future holds for me, but I'm not going to throw away this chance again. First, I want to save him, and then I'll need to think of how to find my sister somehow..."_

_'...I swear I'll rip those strips of seaweed right off his head if he wasted all my effort. I didn't even bless him with the honour of bowing down at my feet as thanks for saving his life!'_

Oz did his best not to chuckle at the mental image that abruptly came to mind, but he still couldn't stop his lips from curving up to form a small smile.

"Well, now's your chance."

*******

Gilbert was currently being led down a narrow corridor in the old warehouse where the Nightrays had set up a secret office for consorting with people like him. He had sent them word of his arrival beforehand, after which they had instructed him to meet them at the usual place.

When Gilbert received his first job from the Nightrays, he found it strange. Why could he not meet with them in their mansion, like how he did with his other clients? But very soon he learned the answer to his question, and that was the fact that there was division amongst the higher-ups.

Duke Bernard Nightray had a brother, a beautiful wife and was blessed with five children at first. He, his wife and his two youngest children, a daughter and a son, were all noble-spirited people. Well, Gilbert actually had his doubts about the Duke himself but the rest of them, though they too had a deep-rooted hatred for the Vessalius House, believed that they would one day settle the score using methods that would not de-honour their name any further, and that went for any other dealings as well.

However, Bernard's brother Richard, and his three sons had a different ideal. Why be fair with the enemy? Why abide by the law when things were done faster and better once you disregarded it? And so, they started mingling with those that worked on the other side of that line that separated lawful and unlawful; with those people like Gilbert, in the shadows.

Had the Duke and the rest of the family known of their plans, surely he would've put an end to it. After all, the Duke's eldest son, unbeknown to him, was murdered during one of these dealings for trying to cheat the person he was consorting with. But his uncle and younger brothers didn't learn their lesson and continued their illegal ventures after covering up for the eldest son's death. Gilbert had been the one to make most of those ventures a success, but today those days came to an end.

Today they would suffer the same fate as the eldest Nightray son.

How many other innocent lives had he taken by mistake? How many times had the Nightrays, or any other one of his clients for that matter, smirked in the shadows as he blindly carried out their unjustified bidding? Gilbert would never know, and he might've continued to be in the dark had not B-Rabbit been there to point out Oz's innocence and open his eyes again.

He knew it was unorthodox. What kind of killer had a moral code? You were supposed to kill indiscriminately in this field, all for the sake of a handsome reward at the end of the day.

But Gilbert was different. He would discriminate. He would kill only those that deserved to die in his eyes, and he would not lay a finger on anyone else unless absolutely necessary.

That was because he didn't kill for money. Money was just a bonus.

He killed for revenge.

Revenge against the scum of this planet that looked down on others less fortunate than them and treated them like toys. They played games with people, used them for their own entertainment, and when they were bored of their toys they would discard them.

Those were the kind of people that had taken _him_ away from Gilbert, all those years ago...

Ironically he was forced to work under the same kind of people many times, but it was only temporary. One should be close to his friends (not that he had any), but one must be even closer to his enemies. That's why he would work for the people he hated the most, because it was convenient for him.

They couldn't stand people like themselves, see, and often sought skilled people like Gilbert to take out their own kind. So Gilbert would participate in this twisted battle royale and work for them, earn their trust by taking out their enemies until one day, they or another party finally gave him an excuse to erase them from the face of the planet, before the vicious cycle repeated.

"We have arrived."

The voice brought Gilbert out of his thoughts as he entered the same gloomy office room where this entire ordeal began. Like last time, he took a seat opposite Richard while his nephews, Claude and Ernest, chose to stand on either side.

"That was quite a spectacular show you put on, Mr. Gilbert," started Richard, smirking shamelessly. "The rumours state that apparently, not a single soul survived and the Estate is beyond repair. Even the current Duke has been eradicated. Certainly, it's never been your style to be so flashy or grand in your actions, but rest assured that your extra efforts will be rewarded this time around because it never hurts to cause-"

"That wasn't me," deadpanned Gilbert. "There just happened to be an attack by another party that day."

 _"...Now that I think about it... Just what_ was _their purpose? Assuming that they really did kidnap that boy's sister, what was the point if her father's dead? And it's awfully strange how just the two of us survived... It's far too coincidental."_

The man before him blinked in astonishment, before scowling when Ernest began to chuckle lightly. "What? Then say so at the start!" he barked as his face turned red with fury and humiliation.

Gilbert remained silent in the face of the man's badly concealed temper.

 _"I_ _would have if you hadn't started blabbering away."_

After regaining his composure, Richard sighed. "Well, I guess it doesn't matter. Either way I can rest in peace knowing that the Vessalius lineage has finally come to an end."

Gilbert glared right into the eyes of the despicable man before him. Things were going to go downhill from his next sentence, so no point in being civil any longer.

"You were mistaken. The boy wasn't the Contractor."

All three Nightrays stiffened. A heavy silence descended upon the occupants in the room and the air slowly thickened with tension.

"What makes you say that?" asked Claude slowly, who, as usual, wore a stern expression.

"The boy could've easily fought back had he been a Contractor. His Abyss would've intervened once it realised its vessel was in danger of being killed. However, no Abyss appeared even though the boy was a trigger finger away from death."

"But did you _kill him_?" urged Claude.

"No", he replied simply. "He's still alive."

Gilbert could say no more even if he wanted to for he was abruptly silenced when the man before him slammed his clenched fist onto the table.

"FOOL!" roared the Nightray Uncle. "YOU SHOULD'VE KILLED HIM WHILE YOU-"

Now it was his turn to be silenced when the barrel of Gilbert's revolver was suddenly pressed to his forehead. Two sleek obsidian rapiers were immediately brandished by his nephews and trained at Gilbert, who now stood towering over Richard.

"Why don't _I_ kill _you_ while I've got the chance?" he mused calmly.

"Hoh~? Why don't you try?" challenged Ernest with a confident smile.

"You may be highly skilled, but even _you_ will never get away with spilling Nightray blood," added Claude coolly.

"Oh, I don't know about that," said Gilbert in a mock-lilt tone, before smirking down at Richard. "After all, if I'm apparently good enough to get away with spilling _Vessalius_ blood then yours is absolutely _nothing_ in comparison."

Richard's complexion quickly turned from angry red to furious purple and, grinding his teeth he growled, "Why you insolent-"

"You knew it very well," interrupted Gilbert, his voice now taking on a more dangerous edge. "I don't kill without reason, or in cold blood. And yet you _still_ dared to trick me?"

The Nightray Uncle did his best to smirk as confidently as one could when there was a gun pressed against their wrinkly forehead. "Oh _please_ , what's this? A code of honour? Within a _criminal_?"

Gilbert's eyes narrowed. "The only criminal around here is you."

"I do not want to hear that from a man that murders for a living," countered Richard.

"I may have my reasons, but at the very least I don't drag innocent people into my personal affairs."

At this, Claude raised an eyebrow. "And you are implying that we do?"

Gilbert glared at Claude from the corner of his eye, automatically making the latter tighten his grip on his sword. "If you Nightrays have some immediately, ancient, _unreasonable_ score to settle, then don't drag the rest of the world into it. That goes for any other jobs you may've carried out without me."

"...Just _what_ on earth are you talking about?"

Gilbert directed his gaze to Ernest once more. "I'm _talking_ about those murders. There are other ways of settling the score. You didn't have to orchestrate such an elaborate ruse all to eradicate a mere boy."

The Nightray Uncle abruptly stood up, momentarily forgetting the cold metal pressed to his skin. "Have you lost your mind?!" he barked angrily. "The only outsider involved in this was you! And why the hell would we sacrifice _our own_ men just to trick you into murdering the boy?"

"Indeed, those murders could not have been our doing," started Claude. "Clearly, you are the one making false accusa-"

"SILENCE!" thundered Gilbert, firing a warning shot at the ceiling.

Enough was enough.

"I won't tolerate anymore bullshit," he growled. "One of your men is the real Contractor. _He's_ the one behind all the recent murders that you shamelessly blamed on that kid. Where is he?! I'll make him pay with his life!"

When his outburst subsided, the room plunged into silence so heavy that Gilbert's deep intakes of breath as he tried to compose himself could just be made out, while his frame trembled slightly in the effort to control his anger.

_"Not good... I must suppress that urge because if I lose it now, then I-!"_

The sound of amused laughter suddenly filled the room and all eyes were on Ernest, whose laughter grew louder and louder by the second, much to everyone else's surprise.

Gilbert felt his chest grow cold.

Alarm bells started going off in his head.

His heart began to drum faster in tense anticipation.

Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

He glanced at Claude and Richard. They were still staring at Ernest in astonishment...

And then it hit him.

As if on cue, something slowly started materialising behind Ernest and the more hysterical the man's laugh grew, the more tangible its form became.

_"An Abyss!"_


	7. Chapter 6: Revelations

Gilbert's mind was racing, already planning ahead before Ernest's Abyss could finish materialising.

_"From the looks of it, not even his uncle and brother knew that he was the one behind those murders... Could it be that the Abyss simply wanted to hide that fact?”_

The raven-haired man grimaced.

_“This is bad. We're confined in a small room and there are two clueless idiots with me. But we're in an isolated location and there's no one else in the building since it's late, so at least the situation can be contained."_

The Abyss finished solidifying just as Ernest's laughter subsided. At first glance, it appeared to be a giant, burgundy scale-plated scorpion big enough to demolish the entire wall behind it and a section of the ceiling above its tail, but it soon became apparent that there were a few things quite off about it.

It had two hands rather than two pincers at the front of its claws, and protruding from each finger was a short but dangerous talon. Instead of having eight slim legs it only had four, but they were quite muscular. Finally, in place of where its sting should be at the end of its tail was a crackling ball of fire that was so hot that Gilbert could clearly see the distortion in the air caused by the heat. Its fiery red eyes were directed right at him.

By now Ernest had been completely possessed and the Abyss spoke through his mouth; its own voice added a faint, monstrous undertone to the man's otherwise melodious one.

"I must applaud you, Gilbert. You really are a sharp one, aren't you? But I am curious. Just _how_ exactly did you learn that it was a _Nightray_ responsible for those murders, hmm?" The possessed Ernest gave Gilbert a knowing look. "Could it be that you have... _experience_ with my kind?"

Gilbert didn't respond.

Ernest sighed, before smiling in that same, sickly sweet way he usually did. "Aah, here I was thinking I could finally have some fun but _you_ just had to go and be Mr. Nice Guy, ruining my cover in the process." He paused for a shrug. "Oh well. Now that you all know my true identity, I'll just have to get rid of the witnesses."

And with that statement, the Abyss's hands suddenly darted out for Claude and his Uncle before they could even gasp in astonishment, squeezing them in its vice like grip. Then, in an instant its hands were ablaze with roaring embers.

Gilbert had witnessed many violent deaths in his time, but death by incineration was truly the worst. It was a gruesome experience, watching as flesh slowly turned into ash before his very eyes and smelling the pungent stench it gave off as it burned. However, the most disturbing part was the howls of terror and screams of agony that seemed to drag on even when the bodies were long gone.

The Abyss was ensuring they died a slow, painful death.

Within minutes, even the very remains of the two Nightray men had been destroyed and Gilbert could do nothing but stand there and watch, helpless.

It was impossible to save them from the start, he realised. The Abyss's reflexes were sharp and Gilbert had yet to fully recover from his injuries which were greatly restricting his movement. But even with this thought in mind, he felt a twinge of unease for not even trying. Indeed, he had wanted to see these men dead, but he at least had enough humanity within him to grant them a quick, painless death.

The Abyss extinguished its burning hands, but kept them raised.

"What exactly is your intention?" questioned Gilbert. "And why did you kill those Nightrays when you've possessed one yourself?"

Ernest looked genuinely impressed. "Most people would usually drop dead from shock after having witnessed that. I was right; you really do have experience with-"

He was cut off by a bullet whizzing past his cheek, grazing the smooth flesh as it went. A single drop of blood slid down his skin but as though it were some exquisite sauce, Ernest simply wiped it off with his index finger before placing the tip in his mouth.

"Answer the question," demanded Gilbert threateningly, doing his best to ignore the blissful face the other made at the taste of his own blood.

"Impatient, are we? Well, since you're going to die anyway, it wouldn't make a difference. This man who I've possessed nearly died when he had a dispute with the owner of this weapons manufacturing factory over some trivial matter. He was shot just below the heart, and that's when I found him."

"A wish to live..." muttered Gilbert.

_"But that's strange... You'd either have to be really daring or really stupid to decide to shoot the son of a Duke over any kind of dispute. Just what the hell was that factory owner thinking...?"_

"I couldn't have asked for a better vessel," continued the possessed Ernest, as he began to pace left and right slowly. "These people already partake in questionable acts, but naturally no one would be too thrilled to find out that their family member was a bloodthirsty murderer, now would they? That's why I kept it from them, and that's also why I killed them. Anyway, a few murders here and there wouldn't mean much... Or so I thought. People started noticing, and then one night one of the men that the Nightrays sent out on scout duty spotted me. I was going to kill him at first just like all the other scouts, but by then I was starting to get really annoyed with all this unnecessary attention which was when I got an idea."

He halted in between his Abyss form and Gilbert before continuing. "I decided to make a deal with that man. He was to report to his superiors that he had spotted a short blonde boy with green eyes and in exchange I would spare his life. I knew about the grudge that the Nightrays harbour against the Vessaliuses, see, so I knew that my Contractor would put two and two and decide to frame the Vessalius boy for _our_ murders, even though it could've been any ordinary boy with those traits."

Ernest scowled in distaste. "Honestly, all that ever goes on in his miniscule cranium is revenge and I wouldn't be surprised if his uncle and brother were like that too. In fact they probably were; I could tell just from their interactions.” His scowl morphed into a crooked smile. “And it was his idea, you know. He's the one that recommended his uncle to select you for the job because of your expertise. They decided to trick you into killing the boy by declaring him to be a Contractor after hearing the information I told that scout to feed them. They were even certain that you wouldn't question it since you never bother investigating the background of your targets anymore. _That's_ how desperate they were to make up for their blunder eleven years ago."

Gilbert frowned. _"Eleven years ago...? What happened eleven years ago?"_

Ernest paused to sigh before continuing his little rant. "Anyway, I thought it would all work out. But then _you_ went and decided to be a hero for once and ruin everything."

"...Why did you help make your Contractor's dream into a reality? You could have told that man to say it was anyone else, or even no one."

Ernest shrugged. "Isn't it more fun that way? Besides, it was the least I could do after he gave up his body to me. Also, that way I wouldn't have to put up with hearing the Nightrays' petty vows and plots of revenge anymore. Do you know how _annoying_ it gets after a while?"

Gilbert clenched his gun tighter. "Your Contractor... He didn't know it was you behind those murders?"

"Contractors aren't aware of their surroundings while they're possessed since they aren't in control of their senses. We Abysses can choose whether or not we want to share our memories with them. Obviously that would've been unadvisable in my case. Also, some weak-willed Contractors have been known for taking their own lives once they learn of the atrocities we commit with their bodies."

"And I suppose you sick bastards find that amusing?" spat Gilbert, before raising his gun.

The Abyss's hands began to glow. Ernest smiled sweetly. "What if I told you that we did?

The sound of Gilbert's gun going off was all the answer he got, and Ernest didn't even bother dodging since a blazing fist caught the bullet meters before it hit its target.

Then the Abyss was on the move. Gilbert immediately dashed out the door and sprinted down the hall, going just fast enough to doge the falling blocks of concrete from the collapsing ceiling as the Abyss gave chase, shielding its Contractor with its body from the rain of debris as it went. However, Gilbert had barely made it halfway when his entire chest throbbed in pain, restricting his breathing.

_"I was out cold for three days, dammit! How much more rest do I need?!"_

The Abyss was catching up, and along with it the entire administration area of the warehouse was breaking down. But now they neared the actual warehouse which would be large enough to accommodate the Abyss's size, meaning that Gilbert had room to fight back _and_ that he didn't have to worry about some giant random concrete boulder smashing his skull open.

Just as he neared the door, Gilbert leaped and connected it with a forward roll through it before getting up and immediately firing two shots towards Ernest. The first was caught by the Abyss again but his second was horribly off target, for Gilbert doubled over in pain while futilely clutching his chest at the last second. The way his entire back and limbs felt sore from its collision against the hard, cold floor or the way his sprained arm throbbed painfully simply worsened his overall condition even more.

The Abyss saw this as its chance to strike and lunged forward; its fiery hands were open and ready to grab Gilbert who darted to the side just in time. The Abyss's hand crashed into the concrete floor and broke right through reaching the layer of earth beneath, and since it came at Gilbert with such great force, its hand was now stuck there.

Gilbert used the opportunity to fire his last three rounds at Ernest while running back towards a sea of stacked barrels. When he glanced over his shoulder, his eyes immediately met Ernest's, who was smiling as though without a care in the world. In front of him was the Abyss's tail, and Gilbert could see his bullets bounce off the metallic-like scales, barely leaving a scratch.

Gilbert swore audibly and once he had ducked behind one of the tall stack of barrels, he had about twenty seconds to reload his gun _and_ come up with a strategy before the Abyss managed to free its hand. Normally that would've been more than enough time to do both, but he was severely lacking strategies since his injuries ruled out most options.

_"I don't even think I have enough energy to use my last resort... Dammit."_

Suddenly he heard a loud crash and realised that the Abyss was now free. Gilbert immediately zigzagged from one stack to the next, aiming to move deeper into the dense sea of barrels where he could conceal himself and buy some more time.

"What's wrong, Gilbert~?" called out Ernest. "Running away already?"

_"In a situation like this, I just need to take out the Contractor. But for that I need to catch him off guard first."_

Accomplishing such a feat wouldn't be too difficult if he put aside his injury handicap. Since none of the lights were on in the warehouse, the only source of illumination was the Abyss' flaming tail but even that could not permeate the darkness near the vast warehouse's walls. It would have to move closer to see better, assuming that it didn't have night vision. And even if it did, it certainly couldn't have the ability to see _through_ objects. Therefore, Gilbert would be safe as long as he stayed among the barrels stacked against the walls of the warehouse. He'd have to move quickly though, in case the Abyss got impatient and simply tore through them.

It seemed that the Abyss was able to guess Gilbert's motives, for Ernest then said, "Aah, that's a smart idea! But, Gilbert? I honestly wouldn't want to hide in there if I was you."

Gilbert halted in his tracks, momentarily caught off guard.

_"What the hell does he mean by that...?"_

Though he knew Gilbert wouldn't be able to see it, Ernest smirked.

"This _is_ the warehouse for a weapons manufacturing factory, isn't it? And if I recall correctly, I believe it includes complementary products for guns and cannons too."

Gilbert took a closer look at the nearest barrel, and then his eyes widened. Ernest's smirk evolved into a gleeful grin, and together with his Abyss, they approached the nearest stack of barrels.

"Hey, Gilbert? I wonder what's in all these barrels over here. They've all got this strange symbol on them that I believe you humans call 'skull and crossbones.'

Gilbert wasted no time and made a run for it, doing his best to ignore all the 'GUNPOWDER' signs printed in thick white capital letters across every single barrel as they flashed by his vision.

The Abyss raised its fiery tail slowly, aiming it for the sea of barrels.

"Whoever designed these must've been an idiot. After all, people are more likely to meddle with something when you specifically tell them not to, don't they?"

With a sinking feeling of dread, Gilbert realised he wouldn't make it. He couldn't go back the way he came and although he made for the exit, the shutters were down, effectively trapping him inside the warehouse. Also, he still had more than halfway to go.

With a wicked cackle from Ernest, the Abyss lunged with its tail. Gilbert still pushed himself to the very limit despite the overwhelming pain. But in a way, it was in vain because another force intervened instead, right before the embers of its tail could come too close to the barrels.

It was a force that stopped time.

Gilbert would've groaned if he could, but all his motor functions had currently been frozen so he had to improvise by doing it in his mind. He could guess what was coming next, and for once in his life he wasn't sure if he wanted to be right.

_"That stupid rabbit... She must've told him everything."_

Suddenly the shutters began to lift up at an excruciatingly slow pace, indicating that someone must've activated the switch from outside. Once they were half-open, Gilbert could see Oz, as expected, with a smug little smile on his face, sauntering through the gapingly wide entrance as if he owned the place.

But to call him Oz would be incorrect, realised Gilbert, when he noticed the crimson eyes and tattoo, and right then he spotted a figure slowly materialising behind Oz, taking the shape of a giant humanoid figure with a rabbit's head and claw-like hands. It wore a red and white overcoat and had a large white bow tied around its neck. Thick, heavy looking chains encircled its lower body from a distance as though they were just waiting to latch onto the figure's limbs and drag it out of existence, just like where the beginning and ends of the chains had faded to.

 _"_ That's _B-Rabbit?!"_

The possessed Oz and B-Rabbit continued forward towards Ernest and his Abyss at a leisurely pace until at Gilbert's peripheral vision could see them no more. All he had now was his ears.

 _'How?!'_ cried Ernest's Abyss, which led Gilbert to wonder how exactly it was able to speak if it was technically frozen in time. Perhaps it was a form of telepathy? Or maybe B-Rabbit had simply allowed it the luxury to speak.

_'I would've noticed if there was another Abyss nearby!'_

B-Rabbit scoffed; the sound came out disconnected, like it was being projected from everywhere, similar to how Ernest's Abyss sounded like when it spoke just now. _'Unlike you weaklings, I actually know how to conceal my presence as well. Though I'm sure you idiots never bothered exploring the extent of your powers, did you? Bloodlust tends to have that effect on shallow-minded fools like you.'_

Gilbert wasn't sure what to expect before B-Rabbit started speaking. He was aware that she was a female, which was just plain weird because he didn't expect Abysses to have genders, and since it was his first time encountering a female one, he would admit that he was curious as to what she'd sound like. So when he heard an ordinary young girl's voice – ordinary apart from the very obvious monstrous undertone that he had anticipated – from B-Rabbit, strangely, he was quite surprised.

Ernest's Abyss (who – now that Gilbert thought about it – had completely failed to introduce itself... It's not that he actually cared, but when one was helplessly frozen in time, idle thoughts were common) was also quite surprised, but not for the same reason as Gilbert. After all, never in its life had it been called a _weakling_ before. Far from it actually.

 _'Who the hell are you?!'_ it roared, and it probably wanted to reach out and strangle the newcomer too, but was shocked when it finally realised it could not move. _'And what kind of power is this? I've never come across this type of binding spell before.'_

B-Rabbit stretched her left arm out and held open her hand, where something long began to materialise in a cloud of electrical purple smoke. While it did so, she answered her opponent. _'"Binding spell?" What an insult! How_ dare _you assume me to be such a weakling! This is no binding spell. I have stopped time itself!'_

 _'Stopped... Time...? Why does that...'_ The Scorpion-like Abyss gasped. _'Wait... Don't tell me...!'_

The long object completed its materialisation. It was a large red scythe, attached to which was a large golden pocket watch.

_'Lethal scythe... Eyes like pools of blood, and... The ability to stop time...! Don't tell me that you're the legendary Bloodstained Black Rabbit?!'_

B-Rabbit gripped her scythe tight, getting ready to attack. _'Didn't my ears give it away?_ ' she scoffed with what sounded like a smirk in her voice.

And before her opponent could respond, she lunged forward at lightning speed and crashed bodily into the Flaming Scorpion Abyss, knocking it right off its feet. Together they crashed through the warehouse wall and the Flaming Scorpion landed heavily on its back while B-Rabbit rebounded off of it, did a back flip in the air and landed perfectly on her feet. She then raised her scythe...

*******

When the two Abysses had begun their verbal sparring, Gilbert had started to get a little irritated at not being able to move when he spotted a figure approaching him out of the corner of his eye. Soon it came close enough for him to identify a head of sunny blonde hair.

_"The kid...?"_

'The kid' was suddenly face-to-face with Gilbert. His crimson eyes bore deep into Gilbert's golden ones and he wore that same irritating smirk from the hospital, when Gilbert had first been subjected to B-Rabbit's time stop. Oz then slowly circled the older man, saying, "Aah, it would've been fun just leaving you like this. In fact, you deserve it. But then the boy wouldn't let me hear the end of it if I did."

At last he stopped when he had made one full round and added, "Lucky you, eh?"

 _"Die!"_ Gilbert screamed in his head. _"Just die already!"_

Oz didn't bother concealing his sniggers, but eventually he managed to suppress them before turning to face Gilbert and placed his hands on his shoulders. He closed his eyes and for a while nothing happened, but Gilbert soon noticed the pressure from Oz's hands as his grip tightened as well as the way his brow furrowed in concentration. After that Gilbert became aware of his own breathing, followed by a slight twitch of his fingers until finally his entire body was free to move again. He staggered forward a few paces since he had been frozen in mid-run, but Oz's hands prevented him from falling flat onto his face.

"There. Now you've been excluded from the time-stop. And I _know_ you've probably just been _dying_ to express your gratitude to me ever since we first met, especially since it's the _second_ time I saved you, but now is not the time. Don't worry though, I promise I'll grant you the honour of bowing down to me later."

"Actually, I've just been _dying_ to strangle you since I first laid my eyes on you. How about you grant me _that_ honour instead?"

"Ungrateful bastard," murmured Oz with a huff and scowl, crossing his arms across his chest.

"...Shouldn't you be near your own body or something?" asked Gilbert, taking a moment to adjust to the feeling of simply _existing_ again.

"Yeah," answered Oz offhandedly, before his brows furrowed in irritation. "But I don't really have a choice, do I? If you hadn't been an idiot and just _waited_ 'til you were better before running off like that, I wouldn't have to go through all this trouble. It's already bad enough that the very act of talking can tire out a Contractor, but at this rate the boy is gonna be out cold for days! I had to stop time in this entire warehouse, you know! And I can't resume it until the enemy has been taken care of in case they try blowing up the barrels again. How much power do you think that takes?!"

"I didn't ask for your help!" rebuked Gilbert. "Why the hell are you even here, anyway?! Didn't I tell you to leave me alone?"

"I didn't _want_ to be here and I certainly didn't want to help _you_ , but that's what Oz wanted. I couldn't disobey." Suddenly his voice took on a much happier tone. "He managed to overcome my control, you know? Such strength already... He truly is the perfect vessel."

"'Tiring out the Contractor' my ass." mumbled Gilbert. "You were doing it before, too. Just go straight for the kill like you're supposed to."

"Ever heard of a distraction?" snapped Oz. "How else was I supposed to get to you without them noticing? I thought you were supposed to be a pro-"

He was cut off by the loud crash caused by his true form and Flaming Scorpion colliding against the wall, or rather, going right through it. Oz wasted no time as he jogged towards the gaping hole in the wall that rivalled that of the entrance, followed closely by Gilbert who was trying to ignore the now-constant sharp pain spreading throughout his torso.

When they had arrived outside, B-Rabbit was currently airborne in the middle of a back flip which she ended nicely with a perfect landing. The Flaming Scorpion realised that the time-stop was only limited to inside the warehouse so while it struggled to get back onto its feet, B-Rabbit raised her scythe and stormed forward while roaring out in fury. The Scorpion raised a flaming hand to grapple her scythe just as she lowered it, causing it to screech in pain as the blade sliced through its un-armoured flesh.

Gilbert, who had been intently watching the two Creatures of Darkness battle, grimaced at the horrendous noises they were letting out. Gone was the tone of humanity that was present during their dialogue earlier. Now they were truly monsters.

Before B-Rabbit could slice the entire hand in half, the Scorpion swiped its tail, knocking B-Rabbit off her feet. She landed heavily on her back just as the Scorpion managed to get off its own, after which it's blazing tail immediately darted down at her. Through the blazing blur, Gilbert could just make out a sting concealed within the very heart of the fire which he never noticed before.

 _"The victims all had one common trait, and that was a gaping wound usually found on their chests or backs,_ _or in rare cases, going all the way through. In addition, a large area around the wound including its edges would be severely burnt."_

Gilbert gasped, before shouting out to B-Rabbit. "Look out for its sting!"

B-Rabbit wisely heeded his warning and within a split second she swung her scythe once more, but this time she angled it diagonally so that it slipped through the opening of the armoured scales to penetrate the vulnerable flesh below. Her deadly speed outmatched the Scorpion's, which meant that she was able to slice its tail off clean.

A guttural cry of sheer agony erupted from the Flaming Scorpion as black blood gushed out from where its tail was severed, spilling all over B-Rabbit and the earth below in blotchy, black raindrops. The tail landed with a muffled _thud_ in between Gilbert and Oz, who was starting to look a little pale.

_"Dammit... I wanted to take the enemy's Pandora but it looks like I'll have to let it go for today. The boy is still new to all this so he won't be able to handle any more strain."_

B-Rabbit was aware of her young Contractor's condition and wasted no time as she jumped back onto her feet before lashing out at her opponent, who tried to deflect with its good arm. Somehow it managed to grab hold of B-Rabbit's arm with its injured hand during the tussle and instantly ignited it. B-Rabbit roared and tried to tug her searing arm free but unfortunately, the grip was too strong.

She had to end this before the opponent burned her arm off, and if that didn't kill him than the great strain she was on putting on her Contractor this early on surely would.

"GILBERT!"

Said man blinked in confusion at the sound of a familiar yet frantic voice calling his name. His eyes darted towards the source of the voice where he spotted Oz a few feet behind B-Rabbit, a thin layer of sweat over his unusually pale face and his brow creased in pain.

"Shoot the Contractor!" he called. "The boy can't last much longer!"

With a brief nod, Gilbert swiftly pulled out his gun while breaking into a sprint. He ran parallel to the two Abysses until he neared the Flaming Scorpion, after which he came to a halt when he spotted Ernest. The man's condition was worse than Oz since his Abyss was not only consuming more power but it was also taking more damage. He was as white as a sheet, face twisted in agony while on his knees, clawing at his own chest.

By now Gilbert was panting heavily and he was starting to doubt whether his wound had re-opened but he forced himself to ignore it because unlike Oz, at least his life wasn't at risk. He didn't have to bother with stealth since Ernest was in too much pain to notice him, so with practiced accuracy he raised his left hand, tilting his wrist to the right ever so slightly out of habit and aimed his gun for the man's heart.

He then took a small step to the left but kept his wrist in place to readjust his aim slightly just as an afterthought occurred to him.

_"No, not the heart. Angle it just a little sideways to the right, where the Pandora is supposedly located... The bullet needs to penetrate both the box and the heart."_

"DO IT NOW!"

And without even a single second's worth of hesitation, Gilbert fired.


	8. Chapter 7: New Beginnings

Ernest was dead before Oz's scream could even fade.

Of course he would be. After all, Gilbert's greatest quality was his impeccable accuracy. Once he had found his true aim, he could never miss. That along with his many other skills made him one of the best and most desired hitman out there, and that's why the Nightrays had went as far as cheating him in order to ensure that he would accept their most important job. If there was anyone they could trust to successfully spill the blood of someone belonging to one of the Four Great Duke houses _and_ deal with an Abyss, it was him.

The Flaming Scorpion's grip on B-Rabbit immediately slackened, and she wasted no time in pulling it free and retreating back. She wasn't sure what would happen next but one thing she did know for sure was that she didn't want to get caught up in it, since it couldn't possibly be anything good.

And she was right.

A whirlwind of fierce purple fire erupted from seemingly nowhere, engulfing the Scorpion and Ernest in a matter of seconds. The man was unharmed by the abnormal fire and still probably wouldn't be had he been alive but the Abyss was clearly suffering. It screeched in fury and tried desperately to break free from the flaming vortex, but it was like an unbreakable barrier that seared upon every touch.

 _'HOW?!'_ it screamed in its final minutes of existence. The flames were eating away at the Abyss, causing it to slowly disintegrate starting from the place where its tail once used to be. _'WE WERE TOLD THAT B-RABBIT HAD NEVER FOUND A CONTRACTOR AND NEVER WOULD!'_

Gilbert turned to look at B-Rabbit questioningly, or more specifically, at Oz. Much to his surprise though, the blonde had an astonished look on his face as though he too was baffled by the Scorpion's words.

Strange...

"Who?" demanded Oz. Both the Scorpion and B-Rabbit were running out of time. She was already beginning to fade since Oz no longer had enough spare energy to sustain her true form. "Who told you these things?! Answer me!"

_'THE CARDS... THEY ARE THE KING'S MESSENGERS... HIS UNDERLINGS...'_

Gilbert's eyes widened when the image of a white-haired maid flashed in his mind.

Cards... King... And maybe even those red-cloaked people... Could it be...?

On reflex he reached down, pushed his coat aside and slipped a hand in the pocket of his pants. And as expected the King of Hearts card he had picked up a few days ago was still there.

_"Could there be a connection here...?"_

_'YOU SHOULD'VE BEEN CHAINED UNTIL THE END OF TIME!_ ' screamed the disbelieving Abyss, or what was left of it. _'YOU SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN UNLEASHED!'_

For the longest of time Oz had been rendered absolutely speechless from shock by his opponent's words, and he stared ahead with wide, unfocused eyes. But eventually he snapped out of whatever daze he was in...

Only to start laughing hysterically.

"Well then!" he began once his fit of laughter died down, surprisingly amused for someone who looked shell-shocked just seconds ago. "You'd better send a message to your friends back home if you can. Tell them. And tell them to inform the King as well, that B-Rabbit has finally found a vessel..."

Oz smirked cruelly when the Flaming Scorpion released one last screech of rage as its head began to disintegrate. "...and that I now walk the earth like the rest."

The roaring flames swirled rapidly until it completely swallowed the Abyss. Oz had to back away to avoid being caught by the vortex and Gilbert began to make his way towards him. After almost a minute, the flames slowly reduced in intensity and the pillar of fire started breaking up. Bit by bit wisps of flames began to die until another minute later, they were completely gone.

And so was the Flaming Scorpion.

The only thing left to indicate that it ever existed was the wrecked warehouse it left in its wake, as well as the string of murders it had committed in the recent past. Even its severed tail and black blood had mysteriously disappeared during that literal whirlwind of activity.

By the time Gilbert reached Oz, the boy was on his hands and knees, panting heavily. Sweat rolled down his face from the hairline and his eyes were shut tight. But Gilbert knew it was still B-Rabbit in control for the tattoo was still present.

"The Contractor," gasped B-Rabbit. "Did you... shoot the...?"

Somehow, Gilbert was able to understand what she was trying to ask him. "Yes. And the heart. He's dead."

The possessed Oz remained where he was for a while, doing his best to settle his breathing a bit before standing up. That itself an effort since he swayed unsteadily once he was back up on his feet. Oz's energy was utterly drained since B-Rabbit had no choice but to use so much power even though they had just recently formed a Contract, so Oz's body had not yet adapted to it all.

"I see..." muttered Oz, whose eyelids began drooping. "...What a waste... His Pandora… I wanted to…"

Unable to finish his sentence, Oz slumped forward right into Gilbert's waiting arms. The man hissed quietly when Oz's head lightly bumped against his chest but otherwise said nothing. Besides, if his guess was right then it would've been pointless to say anything at all.

With a deep breath, Gilbert carefully hefted Oz up and over his shoulder with a slight wince and briefly carried him towards the warehouse, where he set the teen down again against the wall. As expected, his eyes were closed but the tattoo was now gone and as if on cue, he noticed soft but strong purple light streaming through the hole in the warehouse as the time-stop disintegrated.

_"Saved by the kid... Again."_

It was then when he properly noticed the blonde's condition. Oz's eyes were shut a bit too tightly as if in pain while soft pants continued to escape him through slightly parted lips. His cheeks were visibly flushed as well, almost as though...

Realisation dawned to him and to confirm his suspicions, Gilbert swiftly pulled off his left glove before placing his hand over the boy's forehead.

It was noticeably warm.

After some time, Gilbert stood up and sighed, before reaching into his coat pocket for his cigarettes.

_"A fever... Most likely due to severe exhaustion."_

Once he had one lit and in between his lips, he shoved the packet back and inhaled deeply. His chest stung a bit, but his addiction simply told him to endure it.

In the distance, Gilbert could hear the belated shouts and exclamations of angry and astonished citizens. He was not surprised. In fact, it would've been rather strange if anyone _hadn't_ noticed a giant, roaring purple pillar of hell suddenly appear out of nowhere at some ungodly hour in the night, before disappearing just as abruptly as it came.

Well, that was his cue to leave...

_"...at this rate, the boy is gonna be out cold for days!"_

After exhaling a steady stream of smoke, he glanced at the unconscious Oz.

_"...Just how many days are we talking here?"_

_***Four days later...***  
_

_'Oz? Wake up.'_

"Hnn-... Wha...?"

Darkness faded as Oz slowly opened his eyes... only to be met by more darkness. Darkness of the night. Blinking the bleariness out of his eyes, Oz soon realised that he was in a room since he was on a bed, staring at a ceiling.

_"...Am I... back home...?"_

That wasn't exactly right. Hadn't his home been destroyed...?

_"...Or... Was it all a dream...?"_

_'How rude. Are you implying that I'm just some crazy voice in your head?'_

"B-Rabbit...?" murmured Oz a bit unsurely.

_'The one and only.'_

Oz tentatively sat up with a light groan, and his hands automatically found their way to his head that was throbbing from a strong headache. But rather than meeting skin, the heel of his hands pressed into something soft, cold and wet.

_"What the...?"_

Closing his fingers around the object, he peeled it off his forehead and discovered that it was a wet towel.

How unusual. Why was there a wet towel on his head...?

"Where... where are we?" he mumbled after some time, addressing the question to his Abyss.

_'I'm not sure. You were unconscious the whole time so I didn't have access to any of your senses.'_

"And how long is 'the whole time', exactly?"

 _'Again, I'm not sure. But maybe if_ some _people weren't so touchy about having their bodies possessed without permission, I might have considered taking you over just before you woke up and exploring a bit beforehand.'_

Not in the mood for an argument, Oz simply ignored her before removing his hand once the throbbing reduced and looked around. He seemed to be in a bedroom; it wasn't a very large one nor was it extravagantly furnished, but it was simple and tidy. The bed seemed as though it could easily contain two people, but at the moment he was the only one there. Also, one of the pillows were missing.

There was a single bedside table wedged between the bed and the wall to his left, and on it was a bowl of water as well as two brown glass bottles of medicine containing opaque syrup. Against the wall ahead of him was a simple study table and chair, above which was a large window. The curtains had been drawn, allowing the moonlight to spill through and illuminate the room. To his right was a small wardrobe, and at the very opposite-end corner of the room was the door. All in all, it was a painfully plain room with not a single personal effect or decorative piece of furniture to suggest that someone even lived in it, which briefly made him wonder if this was perhaps some sort of guest room.

Oz pushed aside the heavy blanket and slipped out of bed. His shoes were missing but it wasn't really an issue since the floor was carpeted, and the rest of his clothes were still where they were supposed to be (he would have been more than just a little disturbed if they hadn't). He made his way to the door.

_'What if you've been kidnapped? They could be waiting on the other side of that door, you know.'_

Oz shrugged, before opening the door anyway. He was met by a dark, empty hallway.

"I highly doubt it," he whispered, just in case there _was_ anyone else around and awake. "Don't you think they would've tied me up rather than tuck me in?"

_'Yeah, well, maybe you're a V.I.H?'_

"A what?"

_'Very Important Hostage.'_

Oz rolled his eyes and chose not to respond. Instead, he carefully tiptoed down the short, carpeted passage. This house didn't have many rooms, he noticed, after crossing only two closed doors. At the end of the passage he emerged in a large space that was a living room and dining room in one, which was about when he realised that he was in an _apartment_ and not a house. It was also at that point when the strong chill in the air finally registered to him, making him shiver and briefly miss being under the warm covers.

To his very right he could see the kitchen through a large rectangular gap carved into the wall which had a counter top attached on the bottom, next to which was the entrance in between the counter and the wall on the right. In front of the kitchen was a small, ordinary dining table, and to his left was a long sofa up against the back wall. Oz spotted the missing pillow from earlier as well as a blanket sprawled across it. Opposite from the sofa was a large bookshelf and at the very end of the room was a balcony. The sliding glass doors were currently open, revealing a tall figure leaning over the railing with a cigarette in one hand.

And even with his back facing Oz, the boy could immediately tell who it was from the seaweed-like hair.

_"So this must be Gilbert's place. Did he... carry me back here after I fainted?"_

Oz slowly approached the unsuspecting figure, taking extra care to remain silent. He didn't know why but he simply didn't want Gilbert to notice him just yet. Perhaps it was because Oz wasn't quite ready to face the man, since he didn't even know what to say.

First Gilbert had tried to kill him, but then he had saved Oz _twice_ out of his own desire. Why? Just _who_ exactly was this man? Why did he show mercy when it would only mean trouble for him? Why did he kill people at all when his heart seemed to discriminate against his victims?

And why is it that from the very start, Oz was unable to muster even a grain of enmity towards Gilbert in his heart? Why did he constantly have this feeling that the man simply wasn't _meant_ to be a killer? That he wasn't as evil as one might think he would be?

It was all just so... confusing.

"About time you woke up."

Oz's hand flew to his heart as he started in surprise, before mildly glaring at the back of Gilbert's head. "Geez, you scared me!"

Without turning, Gilbert said, "I find it ironic hearing that from someone who tried to sneak up on me. Did you honestly think I wouldn't notice?"

"Ah, good point..." Oz bit his lip sheepishly. "S-sorry about that. I didn't mean to do anything, really. I was just... I don't really know... I mean-"

Gilbert exhaled lazily, releasing a wispy cloud of smoke that slowly melted into the night sky. "It's alright."

Oz continued to watch, nearly hypnotised by the slow trails of smoke Gilbert released after each exhale. This went on for a while until Gilbert suddenly glanced over his shoulder and nonchalantly asked, "How are you feeling now?"

That earned him a look of puzzlement from Oz, so with a sigh he removed the cigarette from his mouth and explained, "Right, you probably don't recall... You started to develop a pretty bad fever when you fainted after the battle at the warehouse."

It was then when Oz recalled the wet towel he found on his forehead as well as the bottles of medicine and bowl of water on the bedside table from earlier. Then Gilbert's words properly registered to him, causing all other thoughts to crash to a halt from the astonishment he was feeling.

_"Again, he..."_

"Well, the fact that you're finally awake pretty much answers my earlier question," he added, more to himself, before turning away and putting the cigarette back between his lips.

"...Is that why you brought me back here?" asked Oz quietly after a while.

Gilbert did not respond.

There was a long period of silence after that, but eventually Oz gathered his courage and said, "...I don't really know why you did it, but... Thank you. The same goes for earlier when... A-after the ceremony... I didn't get to say it earlier, so I'd like to thank you for that now as well. You saved my life twice."

The elder male said nothing for the longest of time. But at some point, he smashed his cigarette against the metal railing and expertly flicked it into a nearby dustbin concealed in the shadows. Then he turned around to lean back against the railing with his elbows bent and arms slung loosely over the edge, tilting his head back to gaze up at the starry sky thoughtfully in the process.

Oz found his attention instantly drawn to Gilbert's chest that was exposed through his unbuttoned shirt and black coat. It was heavily bandaged and thankfully there were no more visible blood stains, but Oz still felt great guilt when he saw the many layers and how much of his torso they covered. Just how bad had the gash been...? And despite the fact that Oz had inflicted such a wound upon him, Gilbert had saved him only minutes after. Even right now...

At some point Gilbert felt Oz's stare and belatedly realised that his bandages were exposed. His torso felt constricted enough as it was, but his clothes only seemed to make it worse so he had opted to keep them unbuttoned. And when Oz's gaze didn't waver then Gilbert, unbeknown to Oz, started watching him from the corner of his eye while letting his thoughts roam. While the other had been unconscious Gilbert had done some thinking, and now those thoughts began to resurface...

He knew he was a man of complexities and twisted justice. On the outside, he appeared to most as nothing more than a cold, emotionally detached man that did not hesitate to commit acts that went against the law. However, 'most' did not know him. In fact, Gilbert could say with absolute certainty that apart from himself, there was no other person on this planet that truly knew him.

Well, there might have been one once...

Traumatised at a very young age by the loss of that one person that had been the dearest to him, Gilbert's heart had developed an insatiable thirst for revenge against the kind of people that had ultimately taken that person away from him, but not before making their lives a living hell.

That led him to his first murder. His first act of revenge. And it was that impulsive act that had set him down the lonely path of a murderer for the rest of his life. There was no turning back once you stained your hands with blood no matter how much you wished you hadn’t, or no matter how pure at heart you were. Gilbert had been well aware of that.

Yet... he did not want to kill. He did not want to be a murderer. How could he, when he knew he would be unable to take the life of someone who had been just as innocent as his dearest person had been?

That was when he came to a compromise with himself.

The one important thing he had forgotten was that there were no laws when it came to the unlawful. And when he had lost the one person that had been anchoring him to reality by giving him a purpose, it wasn't as though he had anything left to lose.

So he deceived, he stole, he murdered – all to quench the thirst of revenge and douse the scorching flames of hatred burning in his heart. But he did these things only to those that, in his eyes, deserved such misfortune. And those people were the ones who did the same and much more. Much _worse_.

They lived for amusement. They used people for entertainment. And they killed because it was enjoyable; unlike Gilbert, who had no _choice_ but to live, no _choice_ but to use people as a means to ends, and no _choice_ but to kill people – because it was a _need_ , not a _want_.

He knew it was biased and even hypocritical to some degree. But he honestly did not care, because as long as his way of life did not bring him anymore guilt and grief, it was fine. In his eyes, his actions were justifiable and that was about as far as he was willing to see.

And so, for those reasons he was cold and reserved most of the time. Usually, it was only towards those that he loathed.

But at the end of the day, Gilbert was still human. And even he had a heart.

That heart may have frozen over years ago but beneath the ice, it was still beating. It was still alive. It could still _feel_.

So if he ever happened to bump into you, say, while out shopping on a bright and sunny day, Gilbert would stop and take the time to apologise and maybe even help you up pick up your things if you dropped them. Or if you happened to be a man dying in the rain on a stormy night and stopped him as he walked past the alley you were left in, pleading him to pass on your last words to the people back home, he would let you rest in peace by promising to do so. Not even for a second would it cross your mind that the seemingly normal, albeit reserved man before you was a ruthless monster when he needed to be.

That's because he had no enmity towards normal people. And although he had no reason to be hostile towards them, there wasn’t a reason to be friendly either. That was just how he was. However, that didn't mean he couldn't be polite or even considerate to a degree.

Which was why, while Oz had been unconscious, Gilbert realised that the blonde had never been an enemy to begin with. Therefore, his hostility towards him had been completely unnecessary, and even quite unjustified. By now, even the boy would've noticed something off about the way Gilbert had treated him up until this point. For that reason, Gilbert felt as though he should clear up any doubts and misunderstandings caused by that misplaced hostility before proceeding any further.

And when Gilbert saw the guilt flicker past dull green eyes, he chose it as his cue to speak.

"I should be the one saying that."

Oz's eyes met Gilbert's and he stared into them, confused.

Gilbert looked away. "You would've survived both times even without my help. You're the son of a Duke, so naturally there would've been people to look out for you. But... not many value the life of someone like me. In fact, no one would. And yet you saved me twice by putting your own life at risk..."

_"I'm sure I would've made it through the first time somehow, but during the second time I don't think even I would've survived an explosion of that magnitude..."_

He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply to dispel all unnecessary thoughts, and to prepare himself for what he was about to say next. Although he had decided to clear the misunderstandings, in all honesty he had no idea how. This situation... It was new. It was unusual. But he would try. And at last he reached the conclusion that he would start by at least showing that he appreciated the boy's attempt to save his life.

"That's why; I should be the one thanking you..." Gilbert hesitated for a moment, before meeting the blonde's gaze once more. "...Oz."

It took a moment to fully register Gilbert's words but when they did, Oz stared wide-eyed at the other, speechless.

_"...That's the first time he's ever said my name..."_

And at that though, Oz couldn't help but smile softly at Gilbert. To think, that this seemingly-terrifying man really wasn't as bad as he projected himself to be. Oz had suspected this was the case ever since their stay in the hospital, and now he was quite confident.

That it was just an act. A shield. A mask.

In that respect, they were quite similar which was probably how he managed to see past all those irritated scowls and cold glares, catching a glimpse of what must be the true Gilbert. But what intrigued him was _why_ Gilbert felt the need to mask his more humane side with a cold-blooded exterior. It sparked an almost unbearable curiosity within him, but he refrained from voicing his thoughts.

When Oz smiled, Gilbert couldn't help but avert his gaze back to the sky once more. The way he smiled... he couldn't recall a time when any stranger smiled at him like that. And he didn't think he _deserved_ for anyone to smile at him the way Oz did, which was why he looked away. Bearing such a sight for too long was difficult for him.

_"But I'll admit that I am a bit curious..."_

"I've been meaning to ask," started Gilbert, still watching the stars. "But... why did you follow me when I went after the Nightrays?"

 _"At first I thought it was to return the favour for saving him from the burning mansion, but he already did so by getting me to a hospital. Then he said he didn’t want to see anyone else die._ _And it makes sense for him to want to do that considering the circumstances at that time, I guess..."_

For a moment Oz was caught off guard by the sudden, unexpected question posed to him. Despite that however, his answer came to him instantly. After all, it was such a simple question.

"I was simply doing what felt right, just like you did," he said meaningfully, smile still in place.

That answer rendered Gilbert speechless. Out of all the answers he had been expecting, that hadn’t been one of them. But eventually his lips curled up by the slightest in the ghost of a smile once his surprise faded.

_"He's kind to a fault, this brat. All the more reason for me to do this..."_

"...What do you plan to do from now on?"

_"If it's what I suspect, then..."_

For the second time in minutes, Oz was met by an unanticipated question. But unlike last time, he found himself silent for some time as he considered the question. He didn't really know why he paused to think about it when he already had his answer, but...

"I..."

...The unanswered question was _how_ , not _what_.

Oz balled his fists in determination once the words came to him. "My sister may have been kidnapped, but I'm sure she's still alive... I'm going to find out who took her, why, and then save her somehow."

Gilbert released a quiet sigh. _"I knew it... That's pretty much the only thing he has left to live for anyway. Well, that just makes this easier for me."_

Tilting his head forward to look at Oz properly, he asked, "Can that stupid rabbit hear us? I need to talk to it."

Before he could answer Gilbert's question, Oz's eyes slowly turned crimson while a familiar tattoo materialised under his left eye, and B-Rabbit's first act upon possessing Oz was to glare daggers up at the taller man.

"I can hear you loud and clear, seaweed head, and I'm not an 'it', I'm a-"

"Well for now you're an 'it'," interrupted Gilbert impatiently without even the slightest hint of remorse. "Deal with it."

Before B-Rabbit could launch her volley of insulting comebacks, Gilbert continued speaking. "According to you, this boy is pretty much useless until he matures or whatever, right? I don't really care what you plan on doing with him once he's nice and ripe for the picking, but until then you're not allowed to go around causing any kind of trouble."

Then, he paused to take a deep breath before adding, in a slightly quieter voice, "In addition to that... you're going to assist him and I find his sister. You're free to do whatever you want after that."

B-Rabbit gawked at Gilbert, completely at a loss for words. But when she finally recovered enough to move her mouth again, she cried, "Wh-what're you, my _mother_ or something? What the hell makes you think that I'm going to listen to _you_ of all people?!"

In one fluid movement, Gilbert swiftly pulled out his revolver and cocked it warningly before staring the possessed boy in the eye calmly. " _Because_ , I have the power to protect him better than _you_ can in his current state. He would be dead in less than a week if he kept fainting each time you were done possessing him.”

The Abyss fumed. “So what? I can still-”

“I _did mention_ earlier” continued Gilbert, cutting her off, “that many people would be there to look out for him because of his linage. But there will also be others like me who were sent to take his life _because_ of that reason, once they learn he’s still alive."

B-Rabbit folded her arms and averted her gaze to glare at some random corner. She knew Gilbert was right, but she would _never_ give him the satisfaction of admitting it out loud. And then she yelped in surprise when suddenly, the freezing cold metal of his revolver was pressed to the lower side of her cheek, pushing her face back to face Gilbert’s. He reached up with his other hand and cupped her chin, sending a shiver of fear down her spine. Apparently he wasn't done speaking yet.

" _However_ ," he murmured, in such a low, menacing voice that it made her shudder. "I also have the power to kill this boy whenever I please. But you wouldn't really like that, would you?"

"Y-you're lying" she scoffed, doing her best to appear confident. "A mere bullet is nothing for me. Or did you forget the humiliation you faced in the hospital? If there's anyone with the power to kill, it's m-"

"Look me in the eyes and see if I'm truly lying," challenged Gilbert coolly.

B-Rabbit blinked, momentarily thrown off guard by his unusual persistence. But he _had_ dared to challenge her...

So she did. She stared at his calm face; into those twin pools of molten gold that stared back with unwavering resolve.

And somehow... she knew.

He wasn't lying. He really _could_ kill Oz. Maybe even _her_.

And if it ever came down to it, he would do it without hesitation.

There was more to this man than she thought...

B-Rabbit's gaze transformed into a heated glare, and she fumed silently for several seconds before grabbing the gun barrel and pushing it away. "I hate you," she growled. "I really, _really_ hate you."

In contrast, Gilbert simply rolled his eyes while holstering his gun, but didn't remove his hand from it just yet. "Well, what do you know, the feeling's mutual. Now, do we have an agreement or would you like to kiss your precious vessel goodbye?"

She looked at him suspiciously. "Why are you even doing all this, anyway? I though this boy was no longer your concern."

Gilbert let go of his gun and resumed his earlier posture of leaning back against the railing. "...He saved my life twice, that foolish brat... He's managed to survive until now thanks to some ridiculously dumb luck, but if he continues to treat people with that same kindness then he'll never find his sister. The least I can do is aid him in that search so that he doesn't go and get himself killed."

"You're avoiding the question," she pointed out bluntly.

Gilbert remained silent.

_"...Why, you ask? I wonder why myself... He already returned the favour when he saved me the first time, but then he got involved with me again. I did the same by bringing him back here even though I could have left him. The scales appear to be even so there should be no reason for me to do anymore. But the truth is..."_

The blonde was now, in effect, a homeless orphan because of one little oversight on the Gilbert’s part. He had the power to prevent the tragedy that struck Oz's coming-of-age ceremony, yet he had turned a blind eye to it and told himself it wasn't his problem. He underestimated the figures cloaked in red, and forget the cardinal law that looks could be deceiving. And instead, he focused on his mission to kill Oz.

All he could do now was take responsibility however he could. It was unforgivable how too many innocent lives were lost that night, and there was no way to bring back them back...

But there was Oz.

He needed help. He had a sister to find. And if there was anyone more suited to find her, then it was Gilbert.

Because... he had a lead. He had connections. Influence. Experience. He could do things that the authorities wouldn't ever be able to do, or would _want_ to do even if they could. The situation was within his power.

And he would not turn a blind eye to it again.

_"I could even guess what they were planning to do, yet I did nothing to stop it. I just ignored them. Ultimately that makes me no better than the people I detest. That's why..."_

"...At the very least," he mumbled to himself, "I need to make it up to him and repent for my unforgivable mistake."

His utterance was not missed by B-Rabbit’s sharp ears, and it didn’t take her long to figure out the implication of Gilbert's words. She could see all of Oz's memories and connect them with things she had picked up from her conversations with the older man, and for once she was considerate enough not to comment on it. She may have been something akin to a monster but being in a human's body and having access to all thoughts and emotions gave her quite a good idea as to what effect that incident had on a human being.

B-Rabbit made a note not to share this particular part of their conversation with Oz.

Instead, she steered the conversation back to its original direction and said, "Okay, well, what does all that have to do with me not being allowed to-"

"Because I can't afford you attracting too much attention," snapped Gilbert, apparently having resurfaced from his deep thoughts already. "Now stop asking me stupid questions and switch with Oz. I need to talk to him as well."

B-Rabbit sighed before closing her eyes. "Ever heard of the word 'please'?" she grumbled, after which the tattoo started to fade. In less than five seconds it had completely vanished and when Oz opened his eyes again, they were his usual emerald shade. He waited until the slight post-possession dizziness subsided and during this short time, B-Rabbit shared the memories of the conversation that just took place. When she was done, Oz could not help but gape at Gilbert.

"Y-you're... going to help me find my sister?" he asked in disbelief.

Gilbert looked away, feeling a bit awkward. "Don't make me repeat myself," he mumbled.

"But... _why_?" questioned Oz hesitantly with a mix of heavy curiosity and mild suspicion in his voice.

Gilbert sighed deeply, before turning his gaze back towards Oz once more. He regarded the teen for a while, who simply stared back with a puzzled expression. Eventually Gilbert realised that his method of approach to this issue was probably incorrect, and that indeed, it was quite odd for him to suddenly declare something like that considering what they'd been through.

He also realised that perhaps he should have apologised earlier as well, both for his oversight and for trying to take Oz's life unjustly... But for some reason he couldn't bring himself to say it. Besides, a mere apology wouldn't justify the circumstances that Oz was now in. No, if Gilbert truly wanted to express regret over his mistakes then he would have to remedy the situation to the best of his ability.

And that was the intention behind his actions – the answer that Oz was seeking.

The answer he could not bring himself to utter.

"...The truth is that I think I might have a lead as to who took your sister..."

Oz inhaled sharply. "A-are you... serious?"

Gilbert nodded. "It's not really much to go by. In fact, it's a little farfetched, but it's all we've got right now."

He then watched the blonde's expression turn into one of deep contemplation – brow furrowed and eyes staring off into the void – while he unconsciously bit his lip, losing himself in thought for a moment.

_"A lead on who took her...! But I wonder what Gilbert managed to find that the authorities couldn't, and when? There had been no helpful clues left behind at the site of the wreckage..."_

"...Look, I'm not forcing you to accept my help or anything," started Gilbert, regaining Oz's attention once more. "I'll leave the choice to you. You can either walk away right now while taking the lead with you. You'll also have my word that we won't cross paths ever again, if that's any assurance, unless of course you ever happen to get in my way somehow."

The younger couldn't help but shudder lightly upon the almost traumatic memory of facing off against a more ruthless Gilbert in the cramped, gloomy attic of his old home. 'Get in my way'? He certainly hoped not.

"But, on the other hand..."

_"...I'm going to find out who took her, why, and then save her somehow."_

_"He has determination, but his choice of words clearly indicates that he's not even sure how to go about tackling this problem."_

"Where will you go? Your father is dead and according to the information given to me, your uncle is the only relative you had and he went missing years ago. You don't even have a plan or any resources, do you?" he said, staring at Oz pointedly. The boy blinked, before understanding slowly dawned upon him.

_"Oh... So that's what he..."_

But then...

_"Where exactly is he going with all this...?"_

"Judging by the lead, I can assure you that the authorities aren't going to be able to find her because this is something out of their hands... I'll explain why later. And honestly, don't take it the wrong way but why would they bother when the entire family has been virtually wiped out? There’s nothing in it for them."

Oz shook his head. "No, it's alright. I... Understand what you mean."

"If that's clear then you'll understand the reason behind your second option."

Gilbert stopped for a moment to take a deep breath. He couldn't quite fully believe he was going to say this, and there was no turning back once the words were out of his mouth...

_"No. There's no other way. I said I'd take responsibility."_

"...Working on the other side of the law has its advantages in situations like these. Things are done quicker, and most of the time you get better results. That's why, you'll have a better chance at finding your sister if I'm involved. So that means you'll be staying here with me, since it might be quite a while before we find her."

Gilbert paused briefly to allow all that he had said to sink in for Oz, before continuing. "However, it's not going to be as simple as that. You're going to have to live inconspicuously from now on. For starters, _this_ will definitely have to go-"

And as he spoke, he emphasised his point by reaching forward to lightly grab Oz's silky braid and gave it a gentle pull, before allowing it to slip past his loosely closed fingers.

"-so I hope you've never been too fond of your hair. It makes you stand out far too much. The last thing we need is to have the authorities on our tail hindering our search, because there will be people looking for you for quite some time. By now you've probably been declared missing, and depending on how long it takes to find your sister, you might even be declared dead. That means you may not be able to go out very often, or at all even, depending on the circumstances. But if you're willing to accept all that..."

Gilbert trailed off and averted his gaze once more. He had gotten his point across so no need to practically spell everything out. Now the rest was up to Oz.

The more Gilbert progressed with his explanation of the blonde's second choice, the more Oz began to feel his eyes sting and an uncharacteristic lump form in his throat. He didn't know _why_ exactly he was feeling like this, as well as why _now_ of all times. It wasn't even like him to feel this way so easily.

But... He just couldn't help it...

"Why... why would you go so far…” he asked quietly after some time. “…for someone you don't even...-"

All of a sudden it became hard to speak. The lump in his throat was starting to hurt and his voice kept faltering. Nevertheless, they both knew that Gilbert understood what Oz was trying to ask perfectly well.

The older of the two regarded the younger for a while. He was unable to read Oz at first from the indiscernibly collected expression he wore, which made him feel a strange sense of unease the longer he kept his gaze focused on the other. Such an expression simply wasn't _normal_ , especially for such a question under such circumstances and for a boy of that age.

But Gilbert's lingering gaze eventually discovered something subtle that gave him away. The boy's fists were clenched tight by his sides making them almost unnoticeable in the darkness of the night, and their quivering was so faint that it almost seemed non-existent.

Oz was containing too much. Too much that it would overflow. But Oz was trying to hold it in. Trying to hide it. Trying to mask it.

And had it not been for the moonlight that brought those fists into Gilbert's attention, that impeccable expression would certainly not have been enough for him to understand what exactly was wrong with Oz no matter how skilled at reading people he was.

An act. A shield. A mask...

"...Not everything needs to have a reason behind it, but if you want one that badly, then... I think you've already deduced the answer to that question," answered Gilbert eventually, turning his head away from Oz.

_"I was simply doing what felt right, just like you did.”_

There was a long period of silence after that, during which Gilbert began contemplating whether all this really was a good idea, or even the right thing to do at all. If Oz decided to go off on his own then Gilbert would keep to his word and do nothing to stop him, even if it meant losing his only chance for redemption. But he simply couldn't imagine the other finding success if he walked down that path. In fact, he would probably lose sight of himself now that he was a Contractor and eventually turn to crime, which was ironic really because Gilbert was probably _the_ worst person to look after the teen considering how he was far from a saint. If anything, he was probably a bad influence.

And yet, at the same time he was strangely confident that nothing would go wrong from this... partnership, for the lack of a better word.

Gilbert also knew from personal experience that once you were cut off from your lineage and cast out onto the streets, you were completely and utterly on your own no matter how small or grand your family may have been. The authorities won't acknowledge you if you didn't have any power attached to your name, so there really was no hope of getting their assistance in his search. Although he was a Vessalius, it meant nothing if the very Duke himself was dead. And it went without saying that a fifteen-year-old could do practically _nothing_ on his own.

All those factors had been considered, which had led to Gilbert coming up with his offer. It was a win-win situation for them both, but if Oz was still hesitant, as his silence suggested...

Gilbert sighed, turning back towards the railing.

"You can take your time to think it over if you'd like. But for now, why don't you take a bath? You've been like that ever since that night," commented the raven-haired man, glancing down at the torn and bloodied remains of Oz's ceremonial outfit pointedly. "I don't think you want to wear those clothes for the rest of your life so I got you some new ones, but I can't guarantee that they'll be a perfect fit. The bathroom is the first door from the bedroom, and they're in there as w-"

He had been reaching down into his coat pocket with the intention of having another smoke, but he was cut off when he felt a hand tug his sleeve.

"...Do you... really mean it...?" asked Oz at last in a voice barely above a whisper, too afraid to speak any louder lest the waver in his voice became apparent.

Gilbert gazed down at Oz. He noticed the boy's fists which were now only loosely closed, as though hesitant, along with his tense shoulders. Then he looked into those shimmering emerald eyes where he was met with a mixture of uncertainty, fear and hope. Gone was the collected expression he had been trying so hard to maintain, replaced by a deep weariness etched into his young face.

His mask was at the verge of slipping.

_"It's truly amazing how he's held it up for so long... This boy is undoubtedly strong."_

Golden locked onto emerald to ensure the sincerity behind Gilbert's next words was absolutely clear.

"I know it's very hard to trust someone that tried to kill you. But I'm sure you also know that no one would joke about something this big. Besides, if you think about it then I've got nothing to gain from keeping you hostage, nor by helping you. So, if it means anything to you, then... I'll definitely help you find your sister. You have my word."

And that did it.

The sting in his eyes became too much and the lump in his throat felt like it was burning. Slowly, one after another, tears began to slide down Oz's face in rivulets. But his lips formed a smile; it was small and slightly pained, but it still conveyed magnitudes of genuineness.

"Thank you, Gilbert," said Oz, with pure honesty that did not fail to reach the elder despite his quiet voice.

When he noticed his vision blur, he closed his eyes and turned away a little before bashfully wiping his cheeks with the palm of his hands. Yet his smile still did not waver, despite the obvious tone of pain in his voice when he spoke next.

"E-eh? That's weird..." started Oz, forcefully puffing out a laugh as though it would cover the faltering of his voice at each syllable. "W-why am I crying?" he wondered aloud; the question coming out as a whisper more to himself. "The tears... th-the tears aren't stopping..."

When Oz began to weep, Gilbert had just stared at him at first, shocked and absolutely clueless as to what he should do. But then the blonde tried to laugh away his pain, and in that moment Gilbert was hit with such a strong wave of nostalgia and grief that his mind simply shut down for a while.

_"He used to do the exact same thing..."_

Without even realising what he was doing, Gilbert's hand tentatively yet steadily rose towards Oz, and his fingers twitched ever so slightly as though inclined, for a moment, to pull back. But at last it simply paused there, hovering just above Oz's head.

_"...And I would always..."_

Ever so slowly, Gilbert lowered his hand to rest on Oz's head and began to stroke it gently, building up a soothing rhythm that made Oz's eyes turn wide when the gesture finally registered to him.

_'You are not alone.'_

That's what the hand was telling him.

"It's okay to let yourself go sometimes," said Gilbert quietly. "You've already held out for this long. But everything has a breaking point. Everyone can only bear so much. No matter how strong you are, you'll eventually break if you try to keep things in that aren't meant to be contained."

_"He's kept it in this long, yet he's still trying to hold it in when he's clearly reached his limit. That's the same mistake I made all those years ago..."_

"So don't force yourself to hold back any longer."

Those magic words seemed to break Oz's resistance completely.

_It's over..._

His tense shoulders slackened almost instantly and at last his smile dropped. With a hitched gasp he began to weep silently, keeping his head bent low and his face turned away from Gilbert. But it was as though the walls he had held up simply crumbled under the sheer intensity of the grief he was allowing himself to release, and it wasn't long before strangled sobs escaped him, entire frame trembling uncontrollably at the effort to remain under some sort of control.

Seeing this, Gilbert gently pulled the boy's head against his chest while slowly slipping his other arm around his shoulders in a reassuring hold, hoping to give the blonde a sense of comforting privacy. Oz immediately buried his face and wrapped his arms around Gilbert’s waist tightly just as loud, heart wrenching cries of anguish began to spill past his lips, thankfully muffled by Gilbert's chest.

_"You have finally come-of-age, Young Master, and what a fine young man you've become. It seems like only yesterday when I was first introduced to that playful young boy that caused nothing but mischief... This was the first of many milestones that will take place in your life and I'm truly glad I was able to live to see this important day."_

_"You're a grownup now, aren't you Big Brother? Waah, how cool! Ah, but that doesn't mean you weren't before. Big Brother is always cool and I love him no matter what!"_

_"I'm proud of you, son."_

_It's finally over..._

Since the night of the incident he had had endured the need to mourn, but now Oz did so without restraint. He cried hard for the loss of the people who he knew and loved dearly; his family and his friends, as well as for the loss of his home that was the keeper of all the memories he made as he grew up with those people. He shed tears over the uncountable innocent lives lost of those people whom he did not personally know, yet they had come just to witness his transition into society regardless.

And perhaps he even cried for himself a little. A certain emotion had begun to plague him ever since his contemplation in the hospital, but he had always managed to push it to the back of his mind. Now, however, it was out in the open along with everything else he had tried to suppress, and Oz cried because he finally allowed the effect of that emotion to wash over him.

Fear.

Fear as to what would happen after all this, fear as to how exactly he would find his sister in this vast country, fear of what would become of her, and also, the fear of being alone... Oz finally acknowledged the existence of those fears, but they did not scare him as much as they previously would have. The beating of the heart other than his own beneath his ear was what gave him the strength to face those fears, and it was also what dulled their effect.

It told him that he would be alright. His sister would be found. And, like the hand on his head, it told him that he was not alone.

When Oz had instinctively clung onto Gilbert, the latter felt his chest tighten with an indescribable emotion. The pressure encircling his waist felt both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

_"...Just like him... And yet they're completely different..."_

Gilbert's hands... They used to be hands that soothed once. Now they were stained with the blood of many... But they still remembered. They still knew how to console.

And it shocked him.

The fact that his frozen heart still knew the warmth of comfort...

The fact that this boy – this stranger – made him remember age-old forgotten habits...

_And yet, this is just the beginning..._

By now Oz had seemed to have calmed down. His shoulders still jerked with each sharp intake of breath every now and then, but apart from his muffled sniffles, he had quietened. It was at that point when Gilbert emerged out of his trance-like state and when he began to feel a bit embarrassed about the situation he was in, now that his uncharacteristic actions had actually registered to him.

"...You're going to soak my bandages at this rate," he grumbled after a while, slowly removing his arms off Oz. But his tone was devoid of any real discontent, for it was simply an attempt at dispelling the awkwardness he was feeling. "I know I told you to let yourself go but it'll be a pain to change them later."

At first there was no reaction from Oz. But after some time Gilbert felt faint vibrations against his chest as the blonde began trembling lightly once more. This puzzled him greatly at first, but then Oz lifted his head up slightly, allowing Gilbert to hear his light chuckles. Realising that Oz was laughing at his worries, he was about to mutter some sort of retort but was stopped when Oz tilted his head up to look at him properly. His tear-streaked cheeks were a bit flushed and his eyes still shimmered, but his lips formed a small but warm smile.

Again, that smile... Gilbert vaguely realised that he was probably going to see it more often from now and he didn't know how to feel about that. But if there was one thing he _did_ know...

_"I was like him once. I used to hold it all in and pretend that I had everything under control. But that was my mistake... The difference between me and Oz is that I broke. There had been no one to tell me it was alright, or that you_ _have to be honest with yourself. And now look at what's become of me... But him? Someone who hasn't even had the notion of revenge cross their mind, someone who can still smile like that despite everything that's happened... Someone like that should not break, because the world needs more people like that."_

"Sorry about that," said Oz, ignoring the slight unevenness in his voice, before pausing to close his eyes and take one final, shaky deep breath to recompose himself.

_A new beginning._

Gone was the fear, sorrow and vulnerability along with his exhale – the things that would have weighed him down. The turbulent events of the past several days had finally come to an end, but that didn't mean he would remain behind with them. No, he would continue to move forward. The past could not be changed and that fact had spurred Oz' ability to adapt to the present. He did not doubt that he would ever fully accept the deaths and destruction that occurred that night, nor would his heart stop grieving anytime soon. But his consolation was the future, which was not as dark and bleak as his past.

No matter if it was faint; it still had the light of hope illuminating it.

_"Alice, B-Rabbit, and Gilbert too... They are my hope."_

When he reopened his eyes he grinned and said, "I'll help you change them!" while releasing his hold on Gilbert, only to grab onto his forearm instead and began to pull the man along behind him. He headed towards the bathroom, not even giving the elder the chance to voice his protest. "And maybe you could give me a haircut, since I doubt it'd be wise to go to a salon."

"I-I can change them myself!" exclaimed a surprised and slightly irked Gilbert who stumbled at first when his arm was tugged, but allowed himself to get guided nevertheless.

Oz's response was to simply look back with another smile and say, "It's the very least I can do to thank you."

Gilbert continued to stare at Oz even after the boy had turned away, still amazed at how quickly the blonde was able to recollect himself like that. For a moment, he wondered if it was simply another act. But then he recalled that peculiar gleam that had been present in those emerald eyes when they reopened just now, and deep down he just _knew_ that no, it wasn't an act.

It was real. The change was definitely real. That _strength_ was real.

Unbeknown to him, a very rare but genuine, soft smile graced Gilbert's features for the first time in many years.

New beginnings certainly weren't easy, especially when one had to carry the burden of their past with them, for it was like a thick fog that shrouded the heart, trapping it in its own darkness. But that certainly didn't mean it was impossible.

Resolve was the light that sparked from within the heart, dispelling the darkness around it despite the prison of fog it was trapped in. It was what lightened one's burdens, giving them the strength to move forward.

So if one truly had the resolve to go on, then new beginnings weren't as hard as they first appeared. This, Gilbert could say with confidence.

After all, this wasn't his first one.

 _...And with this comes the end of the beginning –_ their _beginning._

_But as long as people continue to live, history will continue to be written. Tales will continue to be told._

_Thus, this end also marks the start of another beginning; of another tale..._

_Their tale._


	9. Epilogue: The King of Hearts

_'HOW?! WE WERE TOLD THAT B-RABBIT HAD NEVER FOUND A CONTRACTOR AND NEVER WOULD!'_

_"Who? Who told you these things?! Answer me!"_

_'THE CARDS... THEY ARE THE KING'S MESSENGERS... HIS UNDERLINGS...'_

_'YOU SHOULD'VE BEEN CHAINED UNTIL THE END OF TIME! YOU SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN UNLEASHED!'_

_"Well then! You'd better send a message to your friends back home if you can. Tell them. And tell them to inform the King as well, that B-Rabbit has finally found a vessel... and that I now walk the earth like the rest."_

"Ms. Black Rabbit... Still the ever haughty one, I see."

That mumbled sentence was drowned out by the soft sound of a wide sheet of water that constantly cascaded over a large wall of white marble like a waterfall, plunging into pool in a rectangular basin made of the same marble. But it was no ordinary sheet of water, for it currently displayed the image of a smirking young boy with blonde hair, blood-red eyes and a peculiar tattoo below his left eye.

In front of the waterfall stood the tall figure of man, who gazed calmly at the image before him with eyes just as hauntingly red as those of the boy reflected on the surface of the water. Apart from him, the waterfall and a massive, crystal chandelier hanging overhead, there was nothing else in the white marble chamber because its main purpose was only to house the unusual waterfall.

"And Mr. Scorpion! _I_ certainly don't recall ever saying that Ms. Black Rabbit was never meant to be unleashed. That is just a baseless assumption made by the other Abysses. I merely said that she would not find a Contractor no matter how extensively she searched.” The man paused, his lips curling up in a gleeful smirk. “However, that is because her Contractor had already been chosen for her by fate."

The man sighed. "...But I suppose it isn't their fault, since none but I and the five Red-Cloaked Reapers know of this fact."

All of a sudden someone began knocking on the doors to the chamber, and the sound echoed in the vast space before it was accompanied by a muffled but familiar female voice.

"Room service!"

The man chuckled. _"Well, speak of the devil..."_

Focusing his attention back to the waterfall for a moment, the man slowly swept his hand through the air right in front of it, and the image of the red-eyed boy began to fade as though he had effortlessly wiped it away with his very hand.

"Enter!" he then called, once the image had vanished completely.

The command was instantly adhered to, and the grand, arched double-doors swung forward slowly to reveal a young, white-haired maid who sauntered in towards the man that turned to face her. Stopping before the man, the maid curtseyed before him while greeting him, "Your Highness."

But although it was meant to be a gesture of respect, ironically there was something mocking about it. Perhaps it was because the maid's disturbingly wide grin was still visible even though the rest of her face was obscured from her bent head, or maybe it was how indiscernibly insincere her voice sounded – a striking contrast to the expertly executed gesture that accompanied it.

However, if the man had to choose, then he would say it was simply the wayward female before him. How expected of her to fool around regardless of the exalted presence before her. In reality she was not a maid; it was simply a disguise for the mission he had sent her on and she chose to see him in it rather than changing into her usual red cloak, which would have been far more appropriate for this encounter, while announcing her presence in a most unorthodox manner. And this female hated formalities such as curtseying – not that it was even expected of her or the other four Reapers – yet she would do it at a time like now, as though to further enhance her perverseness.

_"Always a deviant, she is. But as long as she obeys my exact instructions, it doesn't matter."_

"I believe you ordered the tender-aged sister of the young Vessalius heir?" questioned the white-haired Reaper once she straightened, carrying on her previous act of 'room service'. She then stepped to the side, revealing a small girl who looked about eight year's old behind the long skirt of her maid uniform, wearing a frilly orange dress that reached her knees and plain white stockings. The girl peeked up at the man, staring at him with dull green eyes.

"You have brought the girl, I see. Well done..." praised the man, slowly taking in the girl's long, straight, silky golden hair that stopped nearly halfway down her back, as well as her pale, porcelain smooth skin and plump, pink lips. Then he met her slightly lidded gaze, and frowned when he felt something off about it. "But..."

Knowing what was on the man's mind, the white-haired girl said, "You're aware of how tight security is around the borders of the forbidden territories. She was making too much of a fuss so I had to drug her. If I hadn't, we might've been discovered."

"Ah, so that's why..."

"What was the point of kidnapping her, anyway?" she questioned a bit grumpily, glancing down at the girl pointedly. "Stupid brat actually tried to bite me when I first found her. She's lucky that she didn't, or I just might've snapped that delicate little neck of hers when I knocked her unconscious."

"And _you're_ lucky that no harm has been done to her from that reckless move, otherwise her neck wouldn't have been the only one to snap," warned the man with a disapproving glare.

_"I amend my earlier statement. Perhaps her behaviour is worse than I thought."_

The Reaper snorted. "Hey, you probably would've wanted to do the same if you were me, especially when she tried kicking her way out of the suitcase when she awoke – at a bad time, might I add."

"...Suitcase?"

"Don't worry, I made sure to get a large one," she answered seriously. "She fit like a doll."

The man massaged his temples while shaking his head. He didn't even know where to begin with that statement.

_"Why did I forget that delicacy was not her forte?"_

"So? I really hope her value was worth the trouble it took transporting her."

The man regarded her for a while, staring into her light grey eyes searchingly. When, instead of probing he sensed genuine curiosity, he finally said, "...Is it not obvious? Humans don't like having precious things stolen from them. They will do anything to get them back. Besides, it was important to keep at least one of his treasured people alive – not that he had that many to begin with. But even that is in our favour because it will make him desperate, and desperation leads to pushing one's self to their very limit. That, in turn, unlocks true potential."

"Yes, I know all that. But why couldn't I go for the man with the ponytail? At least he wouldn't have struggled like a child."

"I highly doubt that he would've fit in your suitcase, my dear. So let's be thankful that we had the option of the boy's nice, compact little sister, shall we?" Before the white-haired female could retort to the obvious jab, the man added, "Besides, it wouldn't have worked; that man has to be dead in order for the plan to succeed."

"Will this measly girl _really_ be enough to get his attention though? I doubt he even believes that she's alive."

An amused laugh escaped the lips of the man. "Oh, believe me, she's _more_ than enough. The boy went as far as contracting with the great Bloodstained Black Rabbit just to save the man that tried to _kill_ him. Imagine what he'd do for his beloved sister once he gets confirmation of her existence?"

The white-haired female opened her mouth to say something, but then the earlier part of the man's statement properly registered to her and for a moment her jaw simply went slack from shock, causing her to gape at the man.

"It... it worked...?" she gasped once the shock faded, and then her expression become one of crazed happiness. "Then, he's really the one!?"

The man smiled, completely unfazed by the girl's disturbingly maniacal temperament. "Indeed. My judgement is never wrong, Zwei; this, again, is proof of that. I promised you all, did I not? It would take time, but eventually B-Rabbit would be united with her destined Contractor."

The white-haired girl called Zwei grinned even wider, and her body trembled lightly from repressed excitement. "Excellent," she breathed. "I must tell the others! They've been waiting for confirmation ever since you finally told us it was time to test the boy and see if he really was the one."

"Yes, you can do that in a moment. But first, what about the extent of the damage? Was it per my instructions?"

Zwei smirked. "The entire place was damaged beyond repair, and not a single soul survived – similar to what those cursed Vessaliuses did to Sablier a century ago. Lottie didn't hold back at all; it was almost scary."

"Am I correct to assume that the reason why _you're_ reporting all this to me is because she hasn't settled down yet?"

"Yeah. I would've been her in my place on any other day, but you know what _those_ memories do to her.” Zwei paused momentarily, sobering a bit as recalled the state of the other Reapers. “They've all been in a bit of a daze ever since they returned from that mission. It's just that Lottie in particular seems to be the most affected. She probably felt really satisfied causing all that damage, but it also probably reminded her of the Tragedy too much."

"...It seems that her grudge against the Vessaliuses is still as strong as ever, even after all these years."

_"Or rather, her grudge against a certain Vessalius Hero to be precise..."_

"Really? It seems stronger to me, now that the waiting's finally come to an end."

_"Even better, then. It is ultimately in our benefit if there are more casualties, after all."_

"Now that it has _almost_ come to an end," corrected the man while turning back to face the waterfall. "The final phase of the plan has just begun, but in comparison to how long we've waited for this day, the remaining time is nothing."

The chamber plunged into a brief silence after that as both Zwei and the man seemed to lose themselves in their thoughts. By now the mad delight from hearing the good news had disappeared from her features, but Zwei's ever-present malicious smile was still in place when she finally broke the silence.

"So? How did you do it?"

"Do what?" countered the man, sounding seemingly innocent.

Zwei was not deterred. "You know exactly what."

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're trying to say," answered the man, feigning ignorance.

"It could've been nothing more than a string of coincidences. That's what we all thought at first. But today you proved us all wrong and showed us that it's more than just that; I'll admit it. _However_ , even if it _is_ fate, things don't just _happen_. There are always factors that _make_ it happen, and I'm damn sure that you've been planning those factors all this time."

"What of it if I had?"

"The uncountable lives you made us take... Was that a factor as well, or was that simply for your personal gain? Because I'm sure none of us would be pleased if it was the latter, even though it benefits us all as well. You didn't answer us when we asked before you sent us out on that mission, but we trusted you regardless and took your word that it was necessary to set things in motion. True, your words weren't hollow in the end, but we still want to know.”

Zwei gazed determinedly at the man. “Just _what_ was it that you were planning?"

_"If I can't see how that part made any major difference in the overall plan, then that means it really was just for personal gain... I wonder how the others will react if that's the case?"_

The man turned around to face Zwei once more and regarded her for a while. "Did the other Reapers set you up to this or is this actually coming from you?"

"Does it matter? I'm one of them too, aren't I?"

"True, but your circumstances are different from theirs. Therefore, I cannot understand why that particular part of the task I gave you all would bother _you_ to the point where you'd question me about it."

Zwei shrugged. "Is it wrong to be curious? Besides, we've all got the right to know what you were planning since we _are_ directly involved in all of this."

"Well, I suppose that's true," agreed the man with a nod.

"But more importantly," she continued, apparently having more to add. "Just _what_ made you so sure that those two would help achieve our goals? There was no connection between them or B-Rabbit, apart from the fact that the timings just happened to align back then... And even then, it could've been waved off as a coincidence. I'm sure you've seen plenty of them in your life."

The man listened patiently, absorbing the questions posed to him while formulating the answers in his mind, yet he could not help but sigh when Zwei finished speaking.

"After all that's happened, you're _still_ asking me what made me so sure?" The man locked eyes with Zwei. "I'm sure _you_ of all people haven't forgotten the events of fifteen years ago."

Her eyes widened slightly and her gaze went blank, clearly showing that the man's words had stunned her.

"You say it could've been waved off as a coincidence, but my source of knowledge is _never_ wrong," he said, gesturing towards the waterfall. "The only time it ever shows me anything without me asking it to, is when something of great significance has occurred that requires my attention – not that this explanation ever seems to suffice for you all no matter how many times I repeat it."

The man paused briefly. "But then, what about where we are today? Are you really going to declare it a coincidence as well?"

Silence.

"I thought so. We're only here now because I've been paving the way to this point, and I was able to do that because the water showed me what took place that day. Now, I'm sure that after today I won't be hearing _that_ question ever again. And to further ensure that I don't, I'll also tell you the other two reasons indicating that those events were not mere coincidences, since it will be necessary to answer your other questions."

Though she still did not say anything, Zwei fixated her gaze on the man, indicating to him that he had her full attention.

"I've just told you my first reason for believing why those two young men were necessary to us. The second reason would be that such impeccable timing is rare, if not non-existent. So even though there had been no clear link between them all at first, I simply _knew_ it was the work of fate. Call it intuition if you will. Finally, there is, in fact, a connection between those three."

The man began to pace back and forth slowly as he continued with his explanation. "You already know that all Abysses remain dormant for an unpredictable period of time after they are born, and once they awaken, they can form Contracts if a wish attracts them. However, you also know that B-Rabbit is no ordinary Abyss. As if to prove it, out of all Abysses, she remained dormant for the longest time and at some point, the possibility that her Contractor would be no ordinary mortal either came across my mind. But I did not acknowledge it until she finally awoke. The fact that all her attempts at forming a Contract failed until recently supports that notion as well."

"What's so special about that boy?" she asked, and this time her voice was completely devoid of its usual frenzied edge. The man's eyes shifted towards Zwei and took note of how her smile had dropped at some point, as well as the unusual change in her behaviour.

_"Whenever those events are brought up she always acts as though it doesn't bother her anymore, or perhaps it still does but she just hides it very well. However, it's unusual for her to react like this."_

"...Again, the first factor is the timing. For their eyes to open to the world around them for the first time at the exact same moment – is that truly nothing more than an everyday occurrence?" Before Zwei could answer, the man did it for her. "I assure you that it's not. The second factor, however, is rather ironic, and that's simply the fact that he's a _Vessalius_ ; the descendant of the man whom you all despise. Apart from that, his own strength is what rightfully earned him B-Rabbit's power. For a boy, his mental endurance and ability to adapt to situations is astounding. Those are very important qualities in this case, making him the perfect match for B-Rabbit and the one that will help us achieve our goals."

"And..." For a while Zwei remained quiet. Her usually manic features now formed an utterly serious expression, and her lips slowly curled to form a scowl as the seconds ticked by in silence.

_"And to think that she once went by the name of Noise..."_

"What about... _him_?" she asked at last, unconcerned that the hatred in her voice was evident.

_"Ah, so she reveals herself at last. I always wondered why she was so persistent in believing that those events were merely coincidences, but in the end it seems I knew all along. She just does not want to acknowledge that Gilbert is, indeed, a vital part of the overall grand scheme... But now that she's being forced to; perhaps something within her snapped from the effort. That would explain her unusual reaction, and maybe even why she's so persistent on getting answers from me."_

The man could not help but smile wickedly. It was interesting how just the very mention of the incident that transpired fifteen years ago could still subdue the otherwise unexploitable Reaper before him. However, he remembered to keep in mind that it also triggered her rage and that could actually backfire on him, for she was still wayward in temperament.

"My, what's this? Does that incident anger you so much that you cannot even bring yourself to utter his name?"

"You're avoiding the question."

"Oh, but you just did so yourself."

"That's because you already know the answer to that," she snapped, completely having forgotten just who she was talking to.

Deciding that he had gained enough amusement from riling her before it got risky, the man said, "Admittedly, Gilbert had me puzzled for quite some time. In fact, at first I nearly waved him off as a coincidence despite..."

When he saw Zwei's scowl deepen, the man trailed off and considered whether or not to continue. But at last he decided to proceed onto some other point, since it wasn't as though she didn't know what he was referring to.

"Anyway, it was not until several years later when I discovered his significance. He began working for the Nightrays, who are sworn enemies towards the Vessaliuses. Since I had to keep an eye on him anyway, it led me to observe the Nightrays as well, though it proved to be rewarding because I was able to exploit their grudge and orchestrate the fated meeting between those three."

The man paused briefly to allow all that he had said to sink in for Zwei, before proceeding once more. "Bringing them into contact was ultimately a simple task. Understanding the train of thought of the Nightray Duke's two eldest sons and his brother was not a challenge. Only they would be vile enough to resort to dirty tactics to eliminate their enemies, for they were blinded by their desire for revenge. I deduced that they would try to frame the boy for murder if given the chance. I simply had to give them that chance, because that, in turn, would create the chance of establishing the link between Gilbert and the boy."

"How were you able to give them that chance?"

"When you're as powerful as I am, dear Zwei, then pulling strings is never a problem. One of those Nightray men became a Contractor when he nearly died from a gunshot wound, which was inflicted to him by a man that was under the control of one of my Cards. I had ordered it to fatally wound any of those three men at the slightest of provocations. You see, it was necessary to implant an Abyss among the Nightrays. The nature of most low-level Abysses is simply to kill, which it did. But once it was in danger of being discovered, it would be desperate to shift the blame on someone else since further killings would only worsen the matter. In the meantime the Abyss would have learned about the Nightrays' grudge, connected the dots, and seen it as its chance to frame the boy without raising suspicion among the people it was surrounded by."

Zwei considered this explanation. It all made sense, but... "You said it was important to implant an Abyss among them, but why go so far to convert an upper-echelon Nightray? Wouldn't any Nightray do? Ultimately it still would've led to them choosing... _that_ man for the job."

The man came to a halt. His expression contorted into a grimace, and for a moment his blood-red eyes gleamed dangerously, revealing a viciousness that made Zwei shudder involuntarily despite her fearlessness, for she was finally reminded of just _who_ she was talking to. But that simply went to show just how dangerous the man before her truly was, despite his calm outward disposition and uncaring attitude towards how the Reapers – Zwei in particular – generally behaved with him.

"There was no doubt that the truth would have ultimately been revealed, and when it did, Gilbert would not spare those men for deceiving him. It was not he who killed them as I anticipated, but either way those despicable people are now dead. It is their punishment for even _thinking_ about harming our precious key... Had we not purged the blight from its source, there's no guarantee that a third attempt on the boy's life would not have been made. _That's_ why I went through the trouble of infiltrating that particular circle of Nightrays."

Zwei folded her arms and sighed heavily. True, she had come here for answers, but she was starting to get irritated and perhaps even a little bored because of how much the man had to say now that he was willing to talk. Just how much information he had kept from them?

"Then, what about B-Rabbit?"

"Ah yes, of course," said the man, all traces of deadly anger having vanished from his features and his voice, as though it were never there in the first place.

"You and the other Reapers did a very good job setting up the stage for our three fated actors. Due to his nature, I was certain that Gilbert would save the boy's life from the destruction you all caused that night. But that destruction was primarily to lure out B-Rabbit, and now hopefully this knowledge also clarifies that those numerous deaths were indeed a factor that would lead to realising the fate hinted to us that day," finished the man, meeting Zwei's gaze with a knowing look in his eyes.

Coupled with the explanation given to her, Zwei on her part eventually realised what that look was conveying – or rather, what it was trying to imply – and upon putting two and two together she nodded, acknowledging that her question had been answered.

 _"So it really did have a major effect on the overall plan if_ that's _what he was trying to do... This man has a surprisingly sick taste for irony, doesn't he?"_

"Much to my surprise, though," continued the man, "it seemed that Oz decided to wish for something _else_. Still, in the end the outcome was ultimately how it should be."

 _"And it seems that Ms. Black Rabbit isn't even aware of just_ what _her true potential is... Interesting. I believe I can use this to our advantage even. It's better if they're left in the dark”_

"Oz..."

Both the man and Zwei stiffened momentarily at that sudden but quiet, unexpected utterance by the young green-eyed girl, who had been promptly forgotten by the two older people that had brought her here. Now both their eyes were on her as she gained their full attention once more, but it seemed that she had nothing more to say as she simply kept her blank gaze trained on the floor below her feet.

"Well, looks like our little guest is starting to wake up," commented the man who was still staring at the young girl, albeit thoughtfully now.

_"She was making too much of a fuss so I had to drug her."_

The man's mouth formed a dangerous smirk. _"Hmm, now there's an idea... Hypnosis should do the trick."_

That remark seemed to bring another, sudden change over Zwei. Up until now, she had kept silent while her expression remained uncharacteristically solemn. But now that the conversation was over, all they had talked about began to properly sink in and she finally came to terms with something she had been trying to avoid all this time.

_"_ _That man is just as indispensable as the boy and his Abyss... But not forever."_

And it was the second part of that thought that shattered the daze-like state she had slipped into, causing her usual self to resurface marked by the slow, upward curling of her lips that formed a wide, manic grin.

"Now, if you've asked all you had to ask then you may leave. I have to attend to our little guest," informed the man, shifting his gaze from the young girl to Zwei.

"Just one more thing..." she began, before taking a step closer to the man. "...When can I kill _that_ man?" Her grin seemed to widen even further, if possible, and her eyes glinted with unrepressed malice as she took another step forward. "When can I kill... _Gilbert_?"

The man eyed her, amused once again at her rapid change in mood.

_"Ah, at last. She ceases to beat around the bush and utters the crux of all her concerns."_

"Not anytime soon I'm afraid,” he replied with a sympathetic sigh. “You see, Zwei, the boy can be considered the key that will unlock the door that stands between us and our goals; the door being B-Rabbit. Now, if the boy is the key and B-Rabbit, the door, then Gilbert is the hand that guides the key _to_ the door – the one that will help unlock the door for us. Once he has done that, you are free to extract your revenge from him."

The man paused in order to lock eyes with Zwei, staring into her light grey ones with sudden ferocity. "But before then, you are absolutely _not_ allowed to make an attempt on his life. Do I make myself clear?" he asked sternly.

Zwei simply spun on her heel and began making her way towards the grand arch doors, waving her hand in the air dismissively. "Yeah, I get it; enough with the lectures already. Just make sure you keep your promises – not just the one you made with me, but the one you made with all of us."

"I've kept all my previous ones, haven't I?" he called after her.

"True..." she admitted just as her hands landed on the door handles, gripping them tightly before tugging, causing the doors to swing back slowly. However, instead of leaving right away, she stopped at the doorframe as a thought lingered on her mind.

"...But now it matters more than ever," she muttered grimly.

And with that the man watched as Zwei left through the doors, closing them shut behind her and leaving him and the young girl alone in utter silence, which the girl broke soon after.

"Earlier, you said 'Oz' didn't you?" asked the girl quietly, looking up at the man. "He's my big brother. How do you know about him?"

The man smiled sweetly at her, but there was something about it that sent a shiver down the girl's spine – something dangerous and so strong that even thorough her drug induced state, she could sense it.

"I just happened to stumble upon him by chance, my dear."

The girl looked around, taking in her surroundings. "Where are we...?" she asked slowly. "Where's... Big Brother Oz...?" Again, she tilted her head up to gaze at the man, frowning.

 _"The drug is going to wear off soon..."_ thought the man idly when he noticed the spark of fear that flashed by the girl's dull green eyes momentarily. _"But no matter. I have power greater than any drug."_

"This is my home, and right now you're here as my guest," answered the man.

That response seemed to cause the girl to lower her guard a bit, judging from the way her shoulders drooped by a fraction. "...You live here? But... It's such an empty place," she said softly.

The man couldn't help but chuckle. "Oh no, this is just one of the many rooms. Shall I show you around?"

"...Where's Big Brother Oz?" asked the girl again, and though her voice was constantly devoid of any emotion, the man could tell from the way she kept asking for her brother that she was actually quite anxious.

"Don't worry, he's a little busy right now. But I assure you, he'll join us... eventually."

For a moment, the girl looked like she was about to say something – probably to utter some other subconscious worry – but decided against it at the last moment. So, the man seized the opportunity to ask a question of his own for once.

"Tell me, child. What is your name?"

The girl looked up at the man and stared into his deep red eyes, as though she would find the answer to the question he had just asked her there. And when she saw herself being reflected in them, perhaps she did.

"...Alice."

At first the man simply froze, momentarily stunned by the answer he received. Moments, seconds, and then finally an entire minute went by with him doing nothing but staring at the girl. But then he let out a puff of laughter followed by another, and another, until soon he was laughing happily – almost hysterically even.

"Oh, this must truly be fate's work!" he exclaimed once his laughter died down, but the amused smile didn't leave his face. "There is absolutely no doubt now. My victory is confirmed."

_"Indeed, her name is an amazing coincidence, yet at the same time it's not... Worry not, Zwei. All promises will be kept. After all, this is yet another astounding development that hints towards my eventual success."_

Just like with his smile from earlier, the girl could not help but feel awfully uneasy from the way the man laughed, even though it sounded rather innocently cheerful at first. But even if she hadn't been drugged, it would've been impossible for her to understand why.

"What was so funny, mister?" asked Alice innocently, slightly baffled by the man's outburst.

"Nothing at all, my dear," reassured the man. "It's just that I remembered something and found it a bit... amusing."

"What did you remember?"

The man met Alice's gaze and held it as he regarded her for a while, appearing seemingly lost in thought in her eyes. Finally, he said, "I knew a girl named Alice once," he admitted. "That was a long time ago though... In fact, I knew two of them. And now, I've met a third."

"Oh..." said Alice, not sure of what else to say, her mind too clouded to think about anything far too deeply. There was a brief period of silence after that and during that time, the man found himself sinking into his thoughts once more.

Fifteen years ago, a forgotten soul dormant for nearly a century awoke.

Fifteen years ago, a new soul was introduced to this world.

And fifteen years ago, an old soul finally submitted to the harsh reality of life and ventured down the path of evil, relying on the light from the flames of wrath in his heart to guide him forward.

At last, these three destined souls came into contact exactly fifteen years later.

At last, the final phase of the plan could be set into motion.

_"At last, the game begins."_

The man was dragged out of his thoughts once more when he felt a hand tug his sleeve. Looking down, he was met by Alice's curious gaze.

"I have a question too."

"Oh? And what might that be?"

"Who are you, Mister??"

The man smiled pleasantly, yet again making the girl shudder.

And this time, the girl realised why.

She could feel it – the man before her was utterly evil. But what made him dangerous was the fact that he could convince you into believing that he was otherwise. And he did so now, by answering with a lilt in his voice.

"Why, I'm the King of Hearts, my dear."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I would like to thank everyone that took the time to read this story! This was the first and only multi-chaptered story I’ve written so far, so it’s a bit special to me. So I sincerely hoped you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it :)
> 
> Next, there may be certain things that weren’t fully explained in this story. The reasons why I left these loose ends was because I had planned a sequel to this story while I was writing this one. I actually wrote and published this story a few years ago (on a different site) but because of some long-term health problems and piled-up studies, I didn’t get around to writing the sequel. Still, I wanted to repost this story faithful to its original form. Maybe if this time around there’s still demand for it, I’ll consider writing the sequel. If anyone is interested in it then kindly mention so in a review/PM/reblog on Tumblr etc. The more people interested, the more I will consider working on the sequel :)
> 
> Anyway, thanks once again for reading this story! And the end-notes too ;)


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